


Reclamation

by SapphireDreams



Series: The Liberation Duology [2]
Category: American Idol RPF
Genre: Angst, Community: hc_bingo, Healing, Hurt/Comfort, M/M, Post-Traumatic Stress Disorder - PTSD, Recovery
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-11-17
Updated: 2015-11-17
Packaged: 2018-05-02 01:44:26
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 5
Words: 22,854
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5229143
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/SapphireDreams/pseuds/SapphireDreams
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>“Brace yourself, because this is really going to hurt.”</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Primary Beta: sbb23, who got the save on this one.  
> Beta: sundaydriver  
> First Reader: _chica02
> 
> Warnings: Please Read: Physical, emotional, and psychological violence/abuse. Homophobic words and actions. PTSD. Those with triggers may want to avoid this story. 
> 
> Author’s Note: Written for the hc_bingo prompt: Septicemia/Infected Wounds
> 
> Disclaimer: The characters in this story are fictional representations only and by no means represent the reality of people’s lives. This story was made for entertainment purposes only. I retain all rights to this story, but I’m paid only in comments and my own personal satisfaction.

  
**Continued from the first installment of the Liberation Duology: Devotion**  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
“Brace yourself, because this is really going to hurt.”  
  
Kris cried out in agony. His heart stampeded in his chest and dots flashed across his vision. He clenched Adam’s hand. It was difficult to remember a time when he existed without pain and fear. Tears leaked from the corners of his eyes and clung to his lashes, blurring the form of Adam hovering above him. Adam’s lips were moving but Kris couldn’t make out what he was saying, couldn’t hear him over the ringing in his ears.   
  
The scalpel cut again and Kris whimpered, deep within his throat. Voices drifted around him. He couldn’t tell who was saying what.  
  
“Keep talking to him. Distract him. You’re doing fine.”  
  
“For fuck’s sake, can’t you knock him out or something?”  
  
“We don’t want to drug him unnecessarily and risk the side effects.”  
  
Was that the doctor’s voice? Or was it Lucas? Had he come back to hurt Kris again? Another tug, another snip, another pull and his body jerked to all of them. His feverish brain made it difficult to understand what was going on around him. His eyes locked with Adam’s and, for a minute, he remembered again. He was in a hospital back in the United States. The embassy had flown him home so he could be treated here.  
  
It hadn’t started out so bad. Most of his wounds were easily managed, though complicated by infection, dehydration, and malnutrition. Bruises and cuts from the beatings. Scrapes and gashes from his escape, the tramp through the jungle, and the car crash. Lucas’ knife at his throat. Cleaning and bandaging them had hurt, but he’d been able to handle it. The worst of the branding on his hip was painless, nerves in the shape of the Original World Order symbol too dead to feel anything. But the surrounding area of second-degree burns, where his makeshift bandage had stuck, dried, and fused to his infected flesh, that was breaking him. Debridement. That’s what the doctor called it. Cleaning the area of dead tissue and foreign matter. The reality was so much worse.  
  
Kris felt the muscles in his stomach jump and contract as the doctor scraped his hip raw. He felt Adam’s hand smooth across his stomach and up his chest until it was holding his face. He tried to focus.  
  
“Do you remember last summer? We wanted to get away so we snuck out of the house at three in the morning with a picnic basket and two bottles of wine. We drove to the beach and then napped in the sand until the sun rose.” Adam stroked his hair. He was being too gentle. Kris needed more, he needed to stay anchored so he wouldn’t lose his mind. He grabbed at Adam’s shirt, at his hand, at anything and everything.  
  
“I need you.”  
  
“I’m here.” Adam’s voice broke. There were tears in his eyes.  
  
Kris gripped him harder until Adam understood and held Kris with equal strength and desperation. The doctor cut again and Kris shuddered. He could feel the blood and pus dripping down his hip before it was wiped away by a nurse.  
  
“You woke me up with a kiss. Then I chased you until we both fell into the ocean and I held you. We kissed and floated for hours then let the sun dry us off and warm our bodies. We fed each other lunch like lovesick idiots and slow-danced and sang songs until the stars came out again.”   
  
Adam rambled as Kris faded in and out of consciousness. Sometimes he was in the hospital, sometimes he was back in the hut. For what seemed like hours, his world consisted of only two things: Adam’s voice, and pain.  
  
  


~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

  
  
  
Kris and Adam trudged through the doorway of their home. The three days in the hospital had been exhausting. If only Kris had been allowed to rest, maybe it would have been fine. But they had all had to answer questions, make statements, and be debriefed by the FBI. Him, Adam, Cale, Allison, and Tommy. Then there had been the press. God, they had stalked and swarmed Kris and Adam on their way out of the hospital. Kris’ PR team had pressured him until he had finally given in and okayed whatever statement they had prepared for him. He couldn’t even remember what it had said. But Kris had tried to be strong. He had smiled at his parents and forced stillness into his shaking hands. He’d joked with Cale. He’d let Allison hug him to her heart’s content, even if it had hurt him. He’d given Tommy a hard time just because.   
  
But now, he was just so tired.  
  
Kris took two steps into the house and then slumped against the wall. Looking around in the dim light of the evening, Kris saw everything as new, even as he welcomed everything as old and familiar. He felt tears prickling in his eyes.  
  
Then Adam was there, bracing his arms on either side of Kris’ head and leaning over him. Adam inched closer until their bodies were pressed flush together. They stood there for several minutes just breathing and being close. Kris kissed Adam’s collar bone and trailed his fingers along Adam’s side. He so loved and trusted this man. Kris sighed and let go. He laid down his mask of strength and let himself be held, bolstered between Adam and the wall of their home.   
  
He must have drifted off, because the next thing he knew he was in the bathroom being cradled in Adam’s lap. Adam was gently running his fingers through his hair.  
  
“Do you want to take a shower?”  
  
“Yeah, that sounds really good.” Really, really good, in fact. He’d had three days of sponge baths and bed rest. The word ‘shower’ awakened a craving in his skin for those hot streams of water to run down his body.  
  
When Adam went to pull Kris’ shirt off, Kris hesitated and held Adam’s hand back. But then he swallowed hard, and nodded, indicating for Adam to continue. The shoes and pajama pants came next. Adam had seen it all already anyway. Still, Adam’s piercing gaze lingered on every newly exposed yellowing bruise or healing cut. In particular, Adam’s eyes seemed to stray back to the marks around Kris neck and the lines of small bruises running in rows from his wrists to his shoulders.  
  
“What did they do to you, baby?”  
  
Kris shook his head. He brushed his fingers across Adam’s stormy expression and ever-deepening frown. He wanted to give Adam some comfort, but what could he say? Reassure Adam that he was okay? It would be a lie and the platitudes he’d forced out for his parents and friends had no place in his relationship with Adam.   
  
Adam sighed, then pecked him on the lips. “I’ll be ready to listen when you’re ready to talk.”  
  
Adam’s hand hovered over the bandage on his hip and Kris tensed.   
  
“We should probably change the dressing on…”  
  
“It’s fine. It’s covered with waterproof tape. It’ll be fine in the shower. I’ll do it tomorrow.” Kris fiddled with the hem of Adam’s shirt. The pause was heavy. He could sense Adam turning his words over in his head, but he couldn’t look Adam in the eye to properly gauge his expression.   
  
“Okay,” Adam acquiesced. He brushed Kris’ hair back and placed a brief kiss to his temple. Then he undressed himself and helped Kris into the shower.  
  
The moment the water hit, Kris felt a release from deep within. He tilted his head back and let the water wash everything away. Adam’s arms came around him and Kris leaned into the broad expanse of Adam’s chest. The contact of skin on skin soothed and comforted Kris’ frayed nerves. He sighed as Adam massaged shampoo into his scalp and gently soaped up his body. There had been a time, a few days ago, that Kris had thought that Adam would never be able to touch him again.  
  
“Oh, baby.” Adam nuzzled Kris’ shoulder and lightly kissed his neck. His fingertips traced slowly up and down Kris arms.  
  
It was then Kris realized that Adam was quietly weeping. Soft sobs and tears wiped away by rushing water. He turned around, pushed his face into the crook of Adam’s neck, and held on.   
  
  


~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

  
  
  
In the middle of the night Kris sat in his boxers and a sweater in front of the refrigerator, just staring. The door was open and all the cold air was wafting out to give him goose bumps along his legs, but he couldn’t help it. There was just so much food. His hands flitted around, touching a jar of strawberry jelly, a carton of milk, and three complete Chick-fil-A meals. It was all right there and he could just reach in and grab food and drink whenever he wanted. After every mission trip he’d been on, coming home to the privilege of plenty had been shocking. But now that he knew real hunger, thirst, desperation – it was overwhelming.  
  
  
_Running, running, running, had to get away. How could he find food in the jungle? So tired. Water from the lake. They always said don’t drink the water, but he had to, couldn’t help it. So thirsty. Pain came afterwards. And before the running, tied up in darkness, bruised and hurt. Hunger gnawing through his stomach for days. When was the last time they fed him? Hands tearing at him. He saw it, from the corner of his eye, another fist launching out towards him --_  
  
  
Kris recoiled and threw his arm in front of his face to protect himself. He shoved himself away from his attacker. His side slammed into an obstacle and Kris cried out as objects rained down on top of him. Something shattered.   
  
“No!”  
  
Hands reached for him and he scrambled up. He had to get away, out of the hut, away from these horrible people. Kris ran, and found himself in his own living room. He looked around in confusion.  
  
“Kris?” Adam’s voice sounded small and cautious.  
  
Adam stepped into his line of vision. They were both breathing hard. Adam slowly extended his hand and waited for him to take it. Then Adam led him to the sofa and sat him down.  
  
There was red all down his legs. He touched it. Was he bleeding? He squeezed his eyes shut.  
  
“It’s okay, it’s just jelly.”  
  
Adam brought a warm wash cloth and gently wiped his skin clean.  
  
“How’s your head? Did anything hit hard? Did the glass cut you?” Adam knelt in front of him and ran his fingers over his forehead and down across his hands and knees.  
  
“No. I don’t think so.”  
  
“What happened? I woke up and you weren’t in bed so I came to check on you. I just touched your shoulder and you…, I don’t know.”  
  
He thought about it. He put a hand to his chest and willed his heartbeat to slow down. “I think I thought you were going to hit me.”  
  
Adam froze. His mouth opened and closed.  
  
“Not you,” Kris was fast to correct himself. “I mean, I didn’t know it was you. I didn’t hear you come in. And then I just saw your hand. It surprised me, I guess.” He paused. “It scared me.”  
  
While Kris had been talking, Adam’s expression had softened. He gathered Kris’ hands in his own, fingers brushing against the healing rope wounds circling Kris’ wrists. Leaning down, Adam kissed across Kris’ fingertips.  
  
“I’m sorry I scared you.”  
  
“I overreacted.”  
  
“No such thing.” Adam gave him a small smile. “Are you hungry or do you feel like going back to bed?”  
  
Kris slumped forward, suddenly exhausted. He leaned his forehead against Adam’s shoulder.   
  
“Bed.”  
  
  


~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

  
  
  
Kris slept for days. He’d been running, fighting, and hurting for so long that his mind and body were completely exhausted. He went to the bathroom and he showered because it still felt so good. Every so often, Adam would prompt him to eat or drink something or take his pain pills and antibiotics. At times, Adam helped him change his bandages. Most of them. He still wouldn’t let Adam touch the one on his hip. And that was it. The rest was sleep.   
  
A few days into this routine, Kris woke up late at night after having slept all day. He rolled over to find Adam propped up against one arm, awake, and watching him. There were shadows under his eyes and worry lines creasing his forehead. Kris knew that Adam probably hadn’t slept much while he’d been missing and he’d been doing a lot of work lately, taking care of Kris. But Adam needed to sleep too. Kris leaned over and pushed Adam down, running his fingers over Adam’s eyes to close them. He cuddled up against Adam’s side and whispered soft reassurances in his ear.  _Sleep, I’m here, we’re together._ Kris waited until he felt the steady rise and fall of Adam’s chest as he slept before allowing himself to drift off again.  
  
The next night they spent an hour kissing. Nothing more than that. Just kissing. Simple, beautiful, desperate, hungry, dirty, amazed, grateful kisses. Kris still tired easily, but it was enough.  
  
Last night had been spent lying in the dark, holding each other close, and telling each other their tales in quiet whispers. Adam spoke of visions and sleeping pills, the searching and the knowing. Kris didn’t understand it, but it was Adam, so he believed. He didn’t know whether to be saddened because Adam had to see him tortured and in pain, or just plain grateful. Since they were together again because of the visions, Kris settled on grateful. In turn, he told Adam of his confusion when he was first taken. Then, of the beatings, threats, hunger, and fever that had worn him down. He told of his struggle to stay strong, escape, and survive. At least, he told Adam most of it. He may have glossed over the details, but they were both tired, and Kris wasn’t ready. He lingered most on stories about the people who had helped him, in the end, and took pity on the poor stranger in their midst.   
  
And over all of it, they both spoke of their desire to be with each other again. The ache, the missing, and the immensity of their love.  
  
Today they had decided to allow company to come over. After all, both sets of parents and brothers were in town and Cale, Allison, and Tommy deserved to see them, after everything they’d risked to help.  
  
“Are you too tired? Maybe we shouldn’t have invited them over all at once.”  
  
“Maybe not, but I want to see them. I promise to tell you if I’m too tired, okay? Just so long as you do the same.”  
  
Then the doorbell rang and they were here. Everyone bustled in and there were hugs all around. They all carried a pie or some other dish in their hand.  
  
“Now listen, I didn’t know if you boys were up to cooking just yet, so I may have went a little overboard,” said Kim Allen. “Apple pie, cherry pie, peach cobbler, pulled pork in my special barbeque sauce, Kris I know that’s your favorite, potato salad, macaroni and cheese, green beans, biscuits, um, and maybe a couple of other odds and ends. Oh, baby, are you eating? You lost so much weight!” She enveloped Kris with a hug.  
  
“Mama. Adam’s been taking care of me, I promise.”  
  
“Well, of course he has!” She pulled Adam into their hug. “But I know the extent of Adam’s cooking skills and I just wanted to make sure you had some good home-cooked food.”   
  
Kim whirled around and pointed a stern finger. “Stop that right there; those pies are for your brothers!” Daniel and Neil had been quietly poking at the apple pie.   
  
“Mom!” said Daniel.  
  
Leila smacked her son on the back of his head. “Behave. You’re a guest in your brother’s home.”  
  
“Ow, Mom!” said Neil.  
  
After a bit of bumbling, fumbling, and brotherly grumbling, everyone settled down in the kitchen to eat and catch up. They kept the conversation light. Under the surface, there was worry and tension, but above it all was a glow of happiness. Everyone had made it home alive and they were grateful. There seemed to be an unspoken contest going on to see who could make Kris and Adam laugh the most. Negative Neil was winning so far.   
  
“Let’s just say it involved me, Brad, a rubber chicken, and a whole lot of tequila.”  
  
“Oh my God.” Adam waved his hands in Neil’s general direction. “I so do not even want to know.” He laughed.  
  
“And then he goes to me, ‘Wind up the frog!’ I mean, what is that?”  
  
They all laughed.   
  
But by the time dessert was served, the serious discussions had crept back in.  
  
“So, what do you boys think about the media storm that’s surrounding the two of you?” asked Eber.  
  
Adam sighed. “We haven’t really talked much about it.”  
  
“Well, I’m a little concerned,” said Neil Allen. “If you boys thought your relationship was high profile before, it’s that times a million now.”  
  
Allison winked. “They’re like the Brangelina of the gay world.”  
  
“Like, whatever, girl,” said Tommy. “Kradam totally kicks Brangelina’s ass.”  
  
“Right?” They slapped hands.  
  
“That’s the problem,” said Cale. “Kris and Adam would never have been targeted if they hadn’t been in the media so much. And now the LGBT community is full of outrage over what happened and that video Lucas and Richelle put up on YouTube. They want and expect things from the two of you.”  
  
Neil Lambert paused from where he was quietly stealing a cookie from Tommy’s plate. “I’m gonna stamp Kradam on a bunch of rainbow flags and sell them. I’d make a fortune right now.”   
  
“Exactly. And that’s why I want more security around my son.”  
  
“Dad, you know Kris hates having security all around him,” said Daniel. “I mean, not that I’m not worried, but we can’t let what happened completely change the way Kris lives his life.”  
  
“Right,” said Neil. “It’s like saving Kris from one box only to put him in another.”  
  
“First of all,” said Adam. “I’m a little worried about this unholy partnership between the brothers here. The devious pie stealing and the agreeing with each other all the time thing is starting to freak me out.”  
  
“What can we say,” said Neil, “We’ve been bonded by our mutual experiences with pain-in-the-ass older brothers.” He quirked an eyebrow.  
  
“Secondly,” said Adam while ignoring Neil. “I’ve already arranged for extra security for both of us. Every time we go somewhere, we’ll have people with us. I’ve also hired a company to keep an eye on the house. A team will be stationed in a car outside at all times.” He put his hand over Kris’ on the table. “I just want Kris safe.”  
  
Leila raised her eyebrows. “Have you discussed this with Kris yet, Adam?”  
  
“Kris, honey,” said Kim. “Don’t you have anything to say about all of this?”  
  
Until then, Kris had been sitting quietly throughout the discussion. He rubbed the back of his neck. It was true that in the past he hadn’t liked a lot of security walling him in. It was stifling. He liked having the freedom to walk up to his fans and converse with them. But that was before. He hadn’t realized back then what kind of hatred existed in the world.   
  
“Well, I don’t know about all that stuff with the LGBT community and what they expect from us. I just want to make music.”  
  
“We’re not here to be the elected representatives of the gay world. How many times am I going to have to say that?” asked Adam.  
  
“But I think more security would be a good idea.”  
  
Daniel opened his mouth to say something but Kim shot him down with a glare.  
  
“Why don’t we move this party into the living room,” said Neil Allen. “Play a little music, have a little sing along. We could all do with some music.”  
  
  


~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

  
  
  
It was the next day, and Kris was sitting on the couch with his guitar in his lap. Sunlight filtered through the sheer curtains and reflected off his guitar pick, making tiny sparkles of light flitter around the strings.   
  
A dissonant chord shattered the peace of the room. Throwing down his pick, Kris rubbed shaking hands through his hair then got up and paced the length of the room. The music just wasn’t working.  
  
Kris had sent Adam out. They had staved off management and public relations for as long as they could. Additionally, Adam had a lot of other obligations that he’d put on hold over the past few weeks. After all, he’d run off to find Kris while in the middle of a major headlining tour. Adam had hesitated to leave Kris alone, and had suggested they call Cale to come over. But Kris had insisted that he would be fine. So Adam had gone.   
  
But now, Kris regretted telling Adam to go. He felt off balance and out of sorts. Adam had been such a constant since they’d come home, and in truth, Kris wasn’t ready to let go of him yet.  
  
He felt like he just had to get out of this house. Without Adam, it seemed both too empty and terrifyingly claustrophobic. But there were paparazzi camped across the street outside the gate and he didn’t feel like taking a walk with security pressing in on all sides. He needed to think. He scratched his hip, then stopped and clenched his fist. He wasn’t supposed to irritate the area, but the second degree burns all around the symbol were just itching like crazy.   
  
He went to the kitchen and poured himself a cup of coffee to distract himself.  
  
He didn’t like thinking about the brand. The same place where Adam’s hand used to go when they had sex was now marked with a symbol against the very act. And it would never go away. He hated it and he hated them. He could barely look at himself while he changed the bandage. It was ugly and awful – white scar a perfect replica of the OWO symbol, red blotches and bumpy skin of second degree burns all around it. Would he think of Lucas and Richelle every time he looked in the mirror? Every time Adam touched him? They hadn’t done more than kissing yet and Kris was nervous about how it would be different now.  
  
Kris wandered the house as he sipped his coffee, steps slow enough to accommodate his bruised muscles and lacerated skin. Still, after all that time in bed, it felt nice to stretch his legs. On impulse, he went to the front window and peeked out behind the curtain. Flashes went off as eagle-eyed paparazzi strove for a picture. He flinched back. Coffee splashed across his hand, burning him.  
  
  
_He could feel the heat emanating from the metal. Closer and closer it advanced. Hands tied, can’t get free. Richelle holding him down. Muscles tensed. Disbelief. Fear. Pain! Oh God, burning, skin bubbling, nerves screaming in death._  
  
  
Awareness returned slowly. He was curled on the floor, chipped mug and a puddle of lukewarm coffee hovering in front of his eyes. He blinked and pushed himself up on shaking arms. His mind was blank and as much as he stared at it, he could not comprehend the mess in front of him or what he needed to do about it.  
  
The light behind the curtains grew steadily dim.  
  
“Baby, what happened? Are you hurt?”  
  
Kris shook himself and focused on Adam. He licked his lips. “You’re home.”  
  
Adam pulled him close. “Yeah, I’m here.”  
  
Kris leaned heavily against him. “Don’t leave.”


	2. Chapter 2

Empty ice cream bowls and the remains of the cherry pie lay scattered across the coffee table. Kris clicked aimlessly through the television channels while he sat squished up against Adam on the couch. They were everywhere.  
  
  
_“More on the dramatic rescue of American Idol Kris Allen by his long time partner, rock legend Adam Lambert.”_  
  
  
Click.  
  
  
_“…outrage and we demand justice. Adam and Kris have shown the world how love and commitment can exist between any two people, no matter their gender. In light of recent events, we expect Adam and Kris will be making a public stand against the persecution of those in the LGBT community. We want them to know that we are behind them 100 percent.”  
  
“That was Rea Carey, executive director of the National Gay and Lesbian Task Force.”_  
  
  
Click.  
  
  
_“Listen, I’m not saying that gays should be persecuted in the streets. What they do in the privacy of their own home is their business. But that Adam Lambert goes around shoving his stuff into people’s faces and flaunting his gayness, or whatever. Kris Allen should have known better than to…”_  
  
  
CLICK!  
  
  
_“Sources confirm that in light of the immense public outcry against the acts of Lucas and Richelle Macklin and their Original World Order cult, the court hearing leading to their trial has been moved up to early next week. Kris Allen and Adam Lambert were unavailable to be reached for comment.”_  
  
  
A shot of Lucas and Richelle surrounded by photographers and lawyers dominated the screen.   
  
“Adam, what are they talking about? Next week?” Kris sat up straight. His heart beat faster and faster. “I can’t, I can’t. Do I have to be there? With  _them_?”  
  
“We’ll find out.” Adam grabbed his phone off the table and started dialing and mumbling. “Finding out from the TV, what the hell are we paying these people for?”  
  
Five minutes later they had their answer. Yes, it was true. Yes, Kris and Adam had to be there. Yes, Kris was panicking.  
  
  


~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

  
  
  
_Water struck him and Kris sputtered. He’d been hovering within his mind, utterly drained. So thirsty, he could smell the water as it dripped down his face. His tongue leaped out to instinctively draw in as much strength giving moisture as possible. His hands twisted within his bonds.  
  
Lucas slapped Kris’ face.  
  
“Wakey, wakey faggot. It’s time for another feeding. Can’t have our star dying on us before we finish with you.”  
  
The men huddled around Lucas laughed at Kris’ distress.   
  
Kris cringed back into the post he was tied to. Everywhere he looked there were large, muscled men draped in robes of green. They pressed in on him from all sides.  
  
One man pressed a cup to his lips and Kris drank greedily as Lucas watched. The water was warm, stale, and wonderful. Another shoved bread towards his mouth. His stomach rumbled. He ate as fast as he could, so afraid that they would change their minds and take it away.  
  
“Be careful of his mouth,” said Lucas. “Knowing what he is, it’s probably filthy.”  
  
The men laughed. Kris continued to eat, trying to block out what was going on around him. The food was more important. But the floodgates had been opened.  
  
“He knows better than to touch me with that mouth. Look how good he eats from my hand. Like a dog.”  
  
“The little one is a docile bitch. He must be the girl in the relationship.”  
  
“You spread your legs like a good wife for that fucking queen?”  
  
“Wife? There’s no commitment in fag relationships. They all just fuck each other like a bunch of filthy whores.”  
  
They were big and loud and so close Kris couldn’t breathe. Shoving, pinching, poking, smacking. He burned with humiliation and anger. Heat crept up past the tightness in his chest to his clenched jaw, but he said nothing. He wanted to survive and he was afraid. Suddenly, their forms grew until they towered over him. Braying, jostling, reaching cruel hands out towards him. Lucas grabbed his hip and his throat with hands that burned. Fire sprung up encompassing Lucas and devouring Kris. He screamed. Everywhere Lucas touched, Kris’ nerves flared in agony and his blackened body shriveled up and turned to ashes. He was losing pieces of himself and soon there would be nothing left.   
  
Lucas’ eyes bore into his own. “I’ll be seeing you.”_  
  
  
There was a sound of someone whimpering in his ears and hands were shaking his shoulders. Trembling, Kris pulled away with a gasp.  
  
A light clicked on and Kris blinked against the brightness.  
  
“Kris.” Adam made soothing shushing noises. “It’s just a nightmare, you’re here, you’re safe.”  
  
Already the shades of the nightmare were slipping from Kris’ mind, leaving only echoes of shame and fear in their wake. Kris buried his head into Adam’s chest and breathed in Adam’s scent. Sweat, spices, and leather. Focusing on the feel of Adam, Kris tried to wipe away the memory of harsh hands with the gentle strength of Adam’s arms.  
  
“I’ve got you.” Adam hummed a simple tune as he rocked them. “What did you dream about? Do you want to talk about it?”  
  
“No! I mean, I hardly remember, anyway.”   
  
“Okay.” Adam rubbed Kris’ back. “It’s okay.”  
  
“I just don’t want to go to the hearing. I don’t want to see him again.”  
  
“I know, baby, I know.” Adam kissed the top of his head. “I’m not loving the thought of seeing them again either. But we’ll be there together, okay? I won’t let go of your hand if you don’t let go of mine.”  
  
Kris throat closed up and he swallowed hard. “Promise?”  
  
“Promise. Don’t worry about it for now though, it’s not for a few days.”  
  
“I can’t stop thinking about it.”  
  
“Well, I’ll plan something special for us tomorrow, okay? Something nice that will distract us.”  
  
Kris nodded and shut his eyes against sudden tears. Snuggled safe with his head resting on Adam’s shoulder, Kris soon fell into a dreamless sleep.  
  
  


~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

  
  
  
Kris woke slowly. He was so comfortable. His body was curled around the comforter and his legs were tangled in the sheets. The morning sunlight warmed Kris’ body as Adam massaged his scalp and played with his hair. Leaning into the touch, Kris yawned and stretched. He almost wanted to purr like a kitten.  
  
“I made breakfast.”  
  
Kris sighed in contentment and smiled.  
  
“What did you make?”  
  
“I had this whole plan, you see, I was going to make eggs Benedict and grits and blueberry pancakes and fresh squeezed orange juice. I was going to dazzle you with my brilliance and surprise you with breakfast in bed.”  
  
“Uh, huh. How did that go?” Kris grinned cheekily with his face half hidden behind the sheets.  
  
Adam ruffled his hair and flicked his nose, then stuck out his tongue in mock anger.   
  
“I did okay with the orange juice. The rest? Not so much. But I managed some toast.”  
  
He brought a tray over to the foot of the bed. The toast looked okay, though he hadn’t managed to make much orange juice. Adam bit his bottom lip as he fiddled with the fake flowers and feathers he had arranged in a crystal vase.   
  
“Adam.” Kris brushed his thumb across Adam’s bottom lip then leaned up to kiss him. “You always dazzle me with your brilliance.”   
  
Adam grinned and Kris kissed him again.  
  
  


~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

  
  
  
“I’ll be right out.”  
  
Kris double-checked to make sure the door to the bathroom was locked. Then slowly, he peeled the gauze off his right hip. There was the brand in all its ugly glory. Kris traced the OWO symbol with his fingertips. A large “O” with a smaller “O” inside it both overlayed with a large “W.” He couldn’t feel anything where his fingers touched. The nerves were too damaged. It was so weird, to see that he was touching himself and yet feel nothing. Right there, he was dead. They had stolen a piece of his body.  
  
Kris fanned air over the brand. The area around the symbol was healing slowly. The blisters had gone down so the pain was less, but God, the second degree burns still itched. His fingers flexed with the need to just dig his fingers in and tear the whole thing off. He forced his hands to grip the bathroom counter instead and took a long calming breath. It had been almost a week, so the doctor said that he should leave the gauze off during the day and let it air out. Kris’ eyes slid away every time he looked at it. Marked. Deformed. Disgusting.   
  
  


~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

  
  
  
Kris stood at the balcony overlooking their back yard and breathed in the free air. He was wearing loose sweats and one of Adam’s long t-shirts. As he pulled the edge of the shirt down to further cover his hip, dark thoughts crept back into his mind. He would have to leave the house eventually, for the hearing if nothing else. The thought terrified him. But being trapped at home was almost as bad. He was surrounded by walls and paparazzi. It was stifling and he didn’t like feeling he had no way out.   
  
Adam came up behind Kris and wrapped his arms around him. He rubbed strong fingers in circles against Kris’ temples, eliciting small noises of pleasure. Kris sank back into Adam’s chest and absorbed the feel of him. For a moment, he cleared his mind and let himself rest and be at peace.   
  
“I’ve got a surprise for you.”  
  
“Oh yeah?” Kris turned in Adam’s arms, eyes lit up and mischievous.  
  
“Something Neil helped me with.”  
  
“Oh. Well, then, not the type of surprise I had in mind, I hope.”  
  
“Hell no, I don’t need Neil for  _that_.” Adam rubbed his nose up against Kris’ nose. “You’re all the muse I need for that kind of inspiration.”  
  
Adam led him to the living room where they kept their baby grand. In one smooth motion, he hauled Kris up and set him on top of the piano. Then, he seated himself on the bench. Reaching into his pocket, he pulled out a piece of sheet music and smoothed it out onto the music stand. It was heavily creased and torn along the edges, as if he had carried it with him and practiced every time he’d been near a piano.  
  
With one last lingering look into Kris’ eyes, Adam focused on the music and began to play. The melody was simple and slower than the original, but Kris still recognized it. After all, it was a Beatles song, and Kris knew his Beatles.   
  
  
_To lead a better life I need my love to be here...  
  
Here, making each day of the year  
Changing my life with a wave of his hand  
Nobody can deny that there's something there   
  
There, running my hands through his hair  
Both of us thinking how good it can be  
Someone is speaking but he doesn't know I'm there _  
  
  
Adam’s voice started soft and then soared in that heartbreaking clarity that was his trademark. His fingers moved carefully and were a bit stiff, but it was beautiful. The lyrics were almost ironic. Adam had been with him in spirit all through his ordeal with Lucas and Richelle in Guatemala, but Kris hadn’t known that Adam was there. With the press of a few more chords, the performance was over. Just a few short minutes, but so lovingly prepared. Kris’ chest felt tight with love and emotion. This man. He was so perfect.  
  
Adam looked up in expectation. Kris smiled brilliantly.  
  
“That was amazing, Adam. I had no idea you were learning to play.” Kris ran his fingers through Adam’s slick black hair, then pulled him up into a kiss.  
  
“It was supposed to be for the three year anniversary of our first date, but I thought I’d break it out a little early.”   
  
“Play it again. Only this time, I want to sing with you.”  
  
Adam grinned and obliged.  
  
  
_I want him everywhere and if he's beside me  
I know I need never care  
But to love him is to need him everywhere  
Knowing that love is to share  
  
Each one believing that love never dies  
Watching his eyes and hoping I'm always there  
  
I will be there and everywhere  
Here, there and everywhere _  
  
  
Their voices twined together, then harmonized as they played off of each other. Each vocal nuance supported by another familiar voice. Then they played it again. This time Kris sat beside Adam on the bench and played more elaborate notes around the melody of Adam’s fingers. By the end of it Kris’ voice had gone rough with emotion and Adam’s notes had started to quiver.  
  
Silence as they looked into each other’s eyes.   
  
As Kris looked at Adam he saw the love of his life. The man who literally let nothing stand between them. Not countries, not oceans, not insane hatred. The man who had saved him.   
  
Kris slid off the bench and down to his knees.  
  
“Kris,” Adam whispered.  
  
“I love you, Adam. I love you so much. Let me.” Kris pushed up Adam’s shirt and mouthed along the strip of exposed skin. Then he sucked, marking the flesh beneath him.  
  
“I love you too.” Adam gasped as Kris brushed his fingers across Adam’s dick.   
  
Kris unzipped Adam’s old jeans and moved into the space between Adam’s legs. Adam lifted off the bench so Kris could push his jeans and briefs down and off. By the time that was done, Adam’s dick was hard and arching up towards his stomach. At the sight of the beads of precome dripping from the head, Kris salivated. He was suddenly hit in his gut with a deep need and hunger for Adam. He pressed down hard on his own aching dick, trying to relieve a bit of the tension. They had been through so much, and it had been so long.   
  
Kris didn’t want to wait. He went all the way down on Adam in one smooth motion. Adam moaned. Back arching, Adam thrust his hips up off the bench. Kris just took it. He wanted Adam, all of him. He let Adam fuck his mouth for two deep thrusts. Then, he pushed Adam’s hips back down onto the bench. He lifted up to swirl his tongue around the head and into the slit. Then, he went down again, humming as he went. He wanted to make it so good for Adam, so Adam would feel just how much he loved him. Adam’s fingers threaded into his hair, alternately caressing and pulling, almost as if he were trying to hold back. Kris wanted none of that. He wanted them both to feel it. Pulling off, Kris licked a long stripe around Adam’s balls and up the bottom of his dick. He kissed the tip and Adam’s thighs quivered.   
  
“Kris, Kris, Kris. God, baby, I missed you so much.”  
  
Kris went down again and again. He sucked as hard as he could, hollowing out his cheeks and increasing the pressure where his lips stretched around Adam’s cock. Adam keened and twisted his fingers into Kris’ hair. Kris ran his hands up Adam’s endless legs, then gave up control, letting Adam frantically thrust in and out of his mouth. Then Adam was coming, spurting down the back of Kris throat. Kris swallowed as much as he could, small dribbles leaking out of the corner of his mouth. He worked Adam’s dick gently through the aftershocks then reluctantly let him slip free.   
  
In another moment, Adam had pulled Kris up and slammed their mouths together. Pulling back, he licked the come off Kris’ face then dove in for another desperate kiss. Adam’s hands were everywhere. Kris’ mouth was plundered as Adam took back the taste of himself and claimed Kris’ mouth for his own.   
  
“I want you,” Adam growled, needy.  
  
He lifted Kris up onto the piano. Discordant chords sounded as Kris’s ass collided with the keys and his fingers scrambled for purchase. Adam pulled the t-shirt over Kris’ head and attacked his nipples. His tongue sucked and swirled across first one then the other. Kris’ mouth fell open in a silent scream. Then Adam kissed and sucked across Kris’ chest in erratic patterns. Fresh skin he gently nipped at, marking it as his own. Old bruises from strangers’ hands he licked, kissed, soothed, and reclaimed. He paid particular loving attention to the strangulation marks around Kris’ neck, nuzzling and running his fingers lightly across the skin. Kris panted harshly and closed his eyes, his hands flailed up to dig into Adam’s shoulders. Slowly, Adam worked Kris’ sweatpants down his hips. His fingertips gently brushed across the seared edge of the brand on Kris’ hip.  
  
Kris’ eyes flew open.   
  
“No, don’t. I don’t want you to see.”  
  
Pushing against Adam, he flailed against the piano and jerked his pants up. His erection wilted at an alarming speed. Adam rubbed his hands up and down Kris’ arms.  
  
“Kris. Hey, it’s okay. It’s just me, okay? I love you, all of you.”  
  
Kris couldn’t look Adam in the eyes. He trembled, but not from pleasure. He knew Adam meant to be soothing, but all of a sudden, he just didn’t want to be touched. Or looked at. He threw himself to the side in a panic and ran. The last jangles of the piano followed him out of the room.   
  
Before he knew it, he was flinging himself into the downstairs bathroom, slamming the door shut, and locking it. He leaned his forehead against the door and sucked in deep draughts of air. He felt like he couldn’t breathe. His heart was pounding.  
  
“Kris?”  
  
Kris rapidly paced the small length of the bathroom. What was he thinking trapping himself in here? He had to get out. The door wasn’t an option since Adam was right outside. Kris tried to push the window open but it was painted shut. The purple paint disaster of 2014. He slammed his palms repeatedly against the window. Bang, bang, bang. The window frame rattled but would not be moved. He was fenced in.   
  
“Kris, it’s okay. I won’t touch you, but can we just talk? What’s that noise? Are you okay? Please open the door, you’re scaring me.”  
  
Pounding, pounding, blood rushing in his ears. Trapped, trapped, trapped.  
  
  
_He had to get out, they were coming for him. Wanted to stone him to death. Had to fight, had to push. Crack in the wall. Break it. Get through. Had to get out. Survive. He was stuck between the boards. Jagged edges of wood tearing into his skin. It was too small. Couldn’t get out, couldn’t breathe. Feet scrambling, pushing, kicking up dust. Coughing. So scared. Trapped, trapped, and Lucas was coming._  
  
  
The air was gone and Kris felt like he was smothering, choking, dying. Heat rushed though his shaking body. Was he burning? He clutched at the tightness spread across his chest. Was he having a heart attack? Kris’ mind raced and he couldn’t slow it down long enough to think of what he needed to do. He felt a sudden bout of dizziness and lowered himself to the floor. The cool tile against his forehead sent a shock through his system and he gasped.  
  
There was a loud banging sound and a crunching, scraping noise. Then, someone was touching him, rolling him onto his back. He couldn’t make his limbs obey him, he had to get away, but it felt like he wasn’t really there.  
  
“No!” Kris moaned.  
  
Adam’s shocked, scared eyes locked with his. His hands hovered above Kris, close but not touching. He was shaking. Adam clenched his eyes shut and pressed his lips firmly together. But when he next looked at Kris, he radiated nothing but calmness.  
  
“Kris. You’re okay. Breathe with me. Come on, take a deep breath. Hold it. Let it out. Another deep breath. You can do it.”  
  
Kris tried, he tried so hard to do what Adam told him to.  
  
“I have to get out.” His breath hitched again and he felt terrified tears gather in his eyes.  
  
“Okay, I’m gonna pick you up. We’re going to go outside. It’s just me. Keep your eyes on me. Stay with me Kris.”  
  
Kris held to the blue of Adam’s eyes like a lifeline.   
  
The second fresh air brushed across his face, Kris felt the tightness in his chest uncurl. He could feel the wide-open spaces around him. He drank in the sight of the clear blue sky. Minutes passed as his breathing and heart-rate slowly calmed.  
  
When Kris came back to himself, he found that he was cradled loosely on Adam’s lap. They were sitting on the floor of the back deck. Adam’s pants were unzipped and slipping down his hips. He looked exhausted.  
  
“I’m sorry,” said Kris.  
  
“Me too.”


	3. Chapter 3

“So we need to strike while the iron is hot, you know what I’m saying Kris?” asked Stirling.  
  
Kris walked in circles around the living room as he talked to his manager. Adam was busy with his own phone call to Danielle in the other room. The call where Kris had accidentally overheard things like,  _“panic attack”_ , and  _“I’m in way over my head.”_    
  
Every window in the house was open and a clean breeze swept from one end of the house to the other. Adam had even managed to open the stubborn window in the downstairs bathroom. Kris knew that Adam was trying, and he wanted to try too.  
  
“I understand how you’ve just been through a horrible ordeal and I can set up an appointment with a good therapist for you. But you always work through your issues with music anyway, right? So I’m just saying, why not write a few songs, or at least one good one. Maybe about your time in Guatemala? Or about Adam? Or about Adam and Guatemala? I’ve got a studio on hold for you. We’ll push the song through and release it as a special single.”  
  
“Well I don’t know about…”  
  
“Making money off of what happened? Come on, you deserve to get something good out of what that crazy fucker did you to, right? Right. We could even donate a percentage of the profits to charity. Gay rights? Idol Gives Back? Whatever you want.”  
  
“Um, maybe something that helps out the people of Guatemala, I guess. The people I met, well, I was a stranger with nothing to offer but they still helped me and…”  
  
“Okay, I’ll find you something. Or hey, we can start your own foundation! Yeah, the Kris Allen Foundation. How does that sound?”  
  
“Well…”  
  
“So I can count on you for the studio time, right? How about sometime next week or the week after. You can have something to work with by then. You’re the best Kris. And hey, if there’s anyone you’ve ever wanted to work with, you can bet they want to work with you now. So you name someone, and I’ll get them for you. You want anything, anything at all, you just call me and I’ll make it happen. From now on, you get whatever you want, got that Kris?   
  
“I’ll see you tomorrow. I’ve set up a meeting with PR and the best lawyers from 19E. They’re gonna work out your part in the hearing. Adam’s people will be there too. And don’t worry about the hearing! I’ve got everything covered. We’re gonna crush those assholes. I’m sending you two a car. It’ll be there at 9:30 AM, don’t forget. See ya then!”  
  
With that, Kris was left with the dial tone. He chewed his bottom lip. How was he going to come up with a song in two weeks?   
  
He spent the next four hours fiddling with his guitar on the back porch. He had decided to work on the music first. Words he had, too many words. They stumbled and choked him on their way out, but he couldn’t use them. His label would never be happy with songs about anger, hatred, and fear. So, music first.   
  
But he couldn’t seem to string together a melody. Every time he looked down at his hands to work out a chord progression, all he could see was the new scar tissue wrapped around his wrists. In a way, it almost looked like he was still bound.  
  
Kris shoved his guitar away from him in frustration. The music just wasn’t there. He’d tried, but it was gone. Just one more thing they had stolen from him.  
  
  


~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

  
  
  
“We’re going with the cute couple who are totally in love vibe. You both completely support each other,” said Adam’s publicist Roger.  
  
Roger swung his arms out expressively and Kris fought to contain his flinch. The meeting had already been going on for an hour. Kris and Adam, flanked by their managers, were sitting together on one side of a meeting room table. Across from them sat their publicists and a wall of lawyers. Kris pinched the bridge of his nose. He wanted to go home. His bruised muscles ached from sitting up in this chair for so long.   
  
“So, the truth,” said Adam. “Huh, that shouldn’t be too hard.” He rolled his eyes.   
  
“Holding hands is great, so is hugging, and kissing on the cheek. But nothing more than that.” Kris’ publicist Susan gave Adam a pointed look.  
  
“Afraid I’m gonna blow him in the courtroom?” Adam sneered.  
  
Kris reached under the table to brush a light touch across Adam’s knee.   
  
“Listen, Adam, we’re on your side, okay?” said Roger. “But we’ve gone over this with the lawyers and this is the image that we need to project and you are going to toe the line on this. The case against Lucas and Richelle depends a lot on the public opinion of the two of you. Maybe not for the preliminary hearing, but certainly for the trial. There’s no such thing as an impartial jury.”  
  
Roger and Susan continued with their rapid firing of decisions made.  
  
“We’ve picked out outfits for both of you.”  
  
“What? Excuse me? I’m a big boy, honey. I can pick out my own clothes.”  
  
“Now Adam, it’s a very expensive, very nice suit,” said Roger.  
  
“I even caved and let you have something not black so be grateful,” said Susan.  
  
“It’s silver, Adam. Very fashionable. And we’ll have your hair done up in the Elvis style. Minimum make-up.”  
  
“Kris, I’ve got you a classic black suit. The lines are strong and perfect. You’ll look amazing. You may even look taller.”  
  
“There’s going to be an insane amount of media coverage at the trial, but don’t talk to the press. We’ll be handling all of that at official press conferences and high profile, highly regulated interviews.”  
  
“But don’t do the usual smile and move on. We’re not happy here, we’re stoic but full of righteous anger.”  
  
“Strong. That’s the word. Keep your eyes forward and your feet moving.”  
  
“But stay together. Always keep up the image of a united front. We don’t want the trash mags analyzing negative body language. One of you turned away from the other or some shit like that. So, you’re in each other’s personal space but not clinging. Especially you Kris, I know this is going to be hell, and I know how physical you are, but you can absolutely not cling to Adam.”  
  
Kris rubbed the back of his neck and looked away. They were picking apart his life and building it back together, one Lego at a time, until everything shined to their specifications. God, how was he going to pull this off?   
  
“Alright,” said one of the lawyers. Her name was Ms. Delany. She had a nice face and Kris had trusted her instantly. “We want to prepare you concerning what is going to happen at the trial.”  
  
There were four of them - three men and one woman. Kris remembered something about the oldest man being the head lawyer, but he wasn’t completely sure. The guy had his feet up on the table and a lollypop in his mouth. His name was Mr. Brickman, but in his head, Kris called him Grumpy. Of the others, Kris didn’t know much beyond the initial introductions. Mr. Newbern seemed agreeable enough. He was laid back and had helped calm Kris down during his initial panic over testifying. Adam had whispered in his ear that he thought Newbern and Delany were an item, but Kris wasn’t convinced. The last lawyer Mr. LaMarr liked rules a lot. An imposing man, he had pushed the most to make sure Kris and Adam would follow directions.   
  
“The goal of the preliminary hearing is to show the judge that we have enough evidence to take the Macklins to trial. There won’t be a jury there, just Judge Eisenberg. She’ll be making the final decision. We’re not too worried about her because she has a reputation for honesty and fairness.”  
  
“And hotness,” interjected Grumpy.  
  
Kris startled and exchanged glances with Adam. Ms. Delany ignored him.  
  
“There is no doubt in my mind that we will be going to trial.”  
  
“It doesn’t take much evidence, and we’ve got a whole lot,” said Grumpy. “God, this case is gonna be so easy. Why the hell did I agree to this?”  
  
“Because they’re paying you a ton of money and you like a good bloodbath better than anyone,” said Mr. Newbern.  
  
“Oh yeah, right.”  
  
Ms. Delany continued, “Our other goal, then, is to set up certain expectations and limitations within the hearing that will benefit us during the trial.”  
  
“Will I have to talk?” asked Kris.  
  
“It would help,” said Mr. LaMarr.  
  
“But it’s not necessary,” said Ms. Delany. She glared at LaMarr then turned back to Kris and Adam with a small smile. “There’s no reason to put you through the stress of a cross examination when we have enough evidence to push for a trial without either of you taking the stand. We’ll primarily be utilizing the YouTube video and witnesses from the FBI and the humanitarian organization you were working with.”  
  
“However, you will have to take the stand at one point,” said Mr. Newbern. “So you need to prepare yourself. We’ll have several more meetings to fine tune your statement and go over the questions that we’ll be asking you and the answers that you’re going to give. We’ll also go over responses to questions that will likely be asked by the defense.”   
  
“I know it can be scary,” said Ms. Delany, “but we’ll be taking good care of both of you.”  
  
“Like babes in our arms,” said Grumpy. He winked.  
  
  


~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

  
  
  
As he waited for the bodyguards to open the limo door, Kris gazed in shock at the churning mass of reporters and photographers. The American Idol finale had not attracted so many. Even through tinted glass their flashbulbs struck him in an endless stream of white lightning.   
  
Adam gathered their hands together, firm and grounding.  
  
“Don’t cringe away from them.”  
  
“Are you kidding me?” The car was rocking from the pressure of the masses.  
  
“When we go out there, we’re going hand-in-hand and standing tall. No matter how freaked out we are about them and the noise and what’s going to happen today – there will be no cowering away. We’re going to stiffen our spines, put on our fierce faces, and strut.” Adam’s steady gaze seemed to emit strength straight to Kris’ soul.  
  
“Yeah, yeah, okay. I can do this. We can do this. I can.” His eyes drifted back out the window and he wrenched them back to focus on Adam. He needed something first. Leaning forward, Kris met Adam in a kiss. Just a press of lips, hard and fast, but it centered him.  
  
When he and Adam stepped out, hand-in-hand, the swarming mass of people surged forward in ever-increasing energy. The shouting bounced and echoed across overarching buildings into an overwhelming cacophony of endless jabs and demands. But they did it. Tall. Fierce. Strut.   
  
Kris’ confidence lasted exactly until they entered the building.  
  
The San Francisco Federal Building was an intimidating towering maze of offices and court rooms. And once they were inside, everything seemed so much more real. Ms. Delany went on and on about how it was designed by the architectural firm Morphosis to make use of new green technology. It was naturally ventilated and used less than half the power of a typical office tower. The walls were gray concrete but the ceilings were made of wood, and were absolutely stunning, in her opinion. Kris couldn’t tell whether she was rambling or giving a speech. In any case, he thought she could probably tell he needed a distraction. Her inconsequential details and Adam’s hand were the only things holding him together.   
  
“And the food’s great too,” added Mr. Newbern, “And let me tell you, that is not typical for a federal building.”  
  
Dear God, this was only the preliminary hearing. How was he going to handle a full trial? They had crammed prepping material into his head for days but right now he couldn’t remember any of it. He clutched at Adam’s hand a little harder.  
  
There were twists and turns and endless waiting, and then they were in the court room. Kris took note of every exit to the room and calculated how long it would take to get to the nearest one. He stood when he was told; he sat when he was told. Kris tuned out most of the talking by focusing on the way Adam picked at his nail polish. Silver, to match his suit, and sparkly because the suit wasn’t. He’d winked at Kris and told him that he had to get the glitter in there somehow. And Kris had laughed and fiddled with the buttons on his own black suit. But that had been this morning when everything had felt unreal. As if he never would be forced to sit in this courtroom and face the accused, or whatever. God, Kris didn’t even watch Law and Order, he had no idea what was going on or what people were talking about. Everything kept fading in and out of focus.  
  
“…preliminary hearing…determine whether the prosecution has enough evidence to warrant a trial…”  
  
“…counts of domestic terrorism…kidnapping a man who was only trying to do some good in this world…violent hate crime….”  
  
“…defendants are good people…heat of the moment…succumbed to the pressures of their comrades…”  
  
What he did know, was that he was in the same room as Lucas and Richelle Macklin. They were cleancut and beautiful. Showered, shaved, shined, and dressed up to make just the right impression. The all-American couple. Kris wanted to throw up.  
  
Then Lucas turned to look at Kris and it was like the all the lights in the room snapped off, leaving Lucas solely illuminated. Kris’ vision tunneled and focused on the blaze of hatred and disgust in Lucas’ eyes. If Lucas could, he would kill Kris right there in front of the judge. Kris knew it. He’d already succeeded in taking and torturing him. And he would try again, or have his people try again. He’d told Kris that Kris would never be able to escape and he was right, it didn’t matter how long it took, Lucas would have his revenge. Kris must have humiliated Lucas when he’d escaped. There was no way that Lucas would let Kris go unpunished. Lucas’ gaze shifted to Adam and Kris clenched in worry. Next time Lucas would find a way to come after Adam too. They would both suffer and die. And even if Lucas never succeeded, in that moment Kris knew that he would never feel safe. Lucas glared one more time at Kris. Then he turned back to the judge, ever the obedient citizen, and Kris snapped back to reality.   
  
“Hey,” Adam whispered. He turned, sheltering Kris from Lucas’ view. “The hearing’s going well.” Adam’s thumb gently brushed across Kris’ fingers.  
  
Kris looked up blankly into Adam’s concerned gaze.  
  
“I’ve still got you and you’ve got me, right?”  
  
“Right,” said Kris. He hoped his voice didn’t sound as weak and shaky as he felt.  
  
Adam clasped Kris’ hand with both of his, then pulled their joined hands up for a quick kiss. But it was no longer enough.  
  
  


~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

  
  
  
“When was the last time you saw Kris Allen, Mrs. Williams?” asked Mr. Newbern.  
  
“It was right before he went missing. I was the last person to see him before we realized he was gone. He had just finished playing his guitar for the children. He was so sweet with them. And what a voice. Like an angel. I saw what I thought was two members of our team taking him off to the side to talk with him.”  
  
“Did you recognize those two people at the time, Mrs. Williams?”  
  
“No, but I’m fairly new to the organization. I didn’t know everyone yet, and they were wearing our shirts so I didn’t think anything of it.”  
  
“And do you recognize those people now?”  
  
“Yes, I do. They were Lucas and Richelle Macklin.”  
  
“Can you point out the people that you saw with Kris Allen that day of his disappearance? The people who carefully planned, through the obtaining of your organization’s uniforms, for an opportunity to lure Kris Allen aside to get him alone? The people he was with right before he was brutally and unjustly taken?”  
  
Taken. Kris flashed back and remembered. His hand clenched within Adam’s.  
  
  
 _Confusion. What was going on? Smacked across the face. Keep quiet, they said. Struggling, kicking, trying to get away. People clawing at him, pulling him down. Mouth stuffed and gagged. Hands tied. Bag over his head. Darkness. Blows hitting his body from every direction. Shoved into the back of a truck, heavy weight on top of him. Slammed his head. Keep still. Crying, nose stuffed. Can’t breathe. Later, walking, endless walking. Bodies pressed in on every side so he couldn’t run away. Shoving him. Tripping. Slamming into the ground. Hard rocks bruising his body. Screaming around him. Get up, they said. Harsh hands pulling at him, fingers digging in punishing holds. Where were they leading him? Why were they doing this?_  
  
  
Kris blinked and shook his head to clear his thoughts. He had to get control of himself. After taking a deep breath, he clenched his jaw and hazarded a glance around. So far, he didn’t think anyone had noticed his distress. Well, except Adam. But Adam was pointedly pretending everything was fine, except where their hands were twined tightly together.  
  
“Yes, I can.” She pointed. “They’re sitting right there.”  
  
  


~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

  
  
  
“And what was the condition that you found Kris Allen in, Dr. Lumbly?”  
  
“Bruised ribs, torn wrists, evidence of strangulation, concussions, deep lacerations in his back that contained pieces of wood, severe malnutrition, dehydration, and exhaustion. He had several wounds which were infected and which led to his fever and weakened condition. Worst of all, he had been branded on his right hip.”  
  
“Anything else?”  
  
“He was also covered in extensive cuts and bruises of varying age and size. Some were systematic in nature. It looked like he had been beaten and tortured every day for a week.”  
  
  
 _Recreation time, they called it. Beat the fag. Who could make him scream? Who could make him cry? Deep wells of hatred and they washed him in it, covered and drowned him in it. Disgust coming off them in waves as they shoved him like a party favor from one to another. Punching, cutting, pinching. Went on forever. He struggled. Couldn’t stop them. Like his body didn’t belong to him. Like he wasn’t human. Who could stand up to such hatred?_  
  
  
“Objection, your honor. Speculation.”  
  
“Sustained.”  
  
Kris cringed and curled in on himself. Would people even believe him if he told them what happened?   
  
  


~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

  
  
  
They played the YouTube video. Kris hadn’t seen it before. He was probably the only one in the world who hadn’t. He didn’t like to think of the fact that everyone out there had seen what they had done to him, how they had hurt him, how he had screamed. His lawyers had advised him to watch it before today. Adam had tried to prepare him. But he hadn’t listened. He’d put it off. Oh, God, he didn’t want to see it, to hear Lucas’ propaganda, to hear himself, to remember the branding.  
  
  
 _Heat. The glow of hot metal. Agonizing anticipation. Contact. Hot metal searing his skin. The smell of burning flesh. His skin bubbling. Blinding heat and his mind flared white and empty. Pain so great. Whole body convulsing. Screaming. No! He wanted it to end!_  
  
  
The Kris in the video screamed. The Kris in the courtroom gasped and shook, his whole body remembering what it had felt like for nerves to shriek and die. Adam glanced at him anxiously and tried to get Kris to look him in the eye.  
  
But Kris was done. He was so done. He trembled and it took every ounce of whatever control he had left to keep his breathing even and his appearance as normal as possible. His heart was drumming out of his chest.   
  
Holding Kris’ hand in both of his, Adam rubbed Kris’ fingers in time with Adam’s slow breathing. Kris tried to breathe in sync, to ease his frazzled nerves, to loosen the tension in his limbs, the tight stretch of his shoulders. But he just couldn’t concentrate. He glanced at his watch again. Three minutes since the last time he’d checked. The seconds stretched out, as did the endless talking. How long was this going to take? He wanted to go home. He wanted to be safe.   
  
He glanced at Lucas. Lucas stared back.  
  
Kris closed his eyes and willed the world away.  
  
  


~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

  
  
  
“It is the decision of this court in the case of The People vs. Lucas and Richelle Macklin that there is sufficient evidence to warrant a trial by jury….”  
  
Adam pulled him up, because everyone was standing. It was over. For now.  
  
Mr. LaMarr was talking to him. Kris turned his head into the warmth of Adam’s neck and closed his eyes. He closed off his ears and shut down his mind. Done, done, done. Home, home, home. He could hear the rumble and echo in Adam’s chest as he talked.  
  
The next thing he noticed was the fresh air hitting his face as they exited the building. Adam had him pressed up against his side. With his arm wrapped tightly across Kris’ back, Adam pulled him along and sheltered him from the hoard of reporters and photographers. Their bodyguards were working hard to hold back the tide.   
  
But the paparazzi multiplied like a swarm of bloodsucking insects. They were in front of him, behind him, all around him. Shouting, flashing, shoving microphones past the bodyguards and into his face. They were hunting for one good picture, digging for one good comment. The media pressure was astounding and they would not be held back by normal boundaries. They would not be stopped.   
  
“Kris, what was it like seeing your kidnappers again for the first time today?”  
  
“Kris, can you comment on the statements that you made in the OWO video? Do you still hold to them today?”  
  
“Kris, do you wish you had never started a gay relationship with Adam Lambert?”  
  
“Adam, how’s Kris holding up under this immense pressure?”  
  
“Kris, Kris! How does it feel to be a gay icon for millions of people?”   
  
Finally, the door to the limo opened in front of them, air conditioning blasting outwards. Kris stumbled in hard and slouched, boneless, into the seat. He pressed his forehead against the cool relief of the window. Staring as the people faded into streetlights as the limo drove away, Kris puffed little clouds on the glass with the warmth of his breath. Everything flashed by so quickly. He drew meaningless scribbles into the fog.  
  
“Kris. Hey, look at me for a second.”  
  
Adam’s fingers gently pulled at Kris’ chin to turn his head. He lifted Kris’ hair and stared intently at Kris’ forehead.  
  
“I think you bumped your head on the window when you crashed into the seat. Does it hurt?”   
  
Kris swept his fingers across the creases in Adam’s forehead. What were those lines doing there? Was Adam worried about something?  
  
“Blink, Kris. Blink for me.”  
  
Cotton. Molasses. Sand in an hourglass falling down slowly. He could still hear his heart beating, but why was it so loud?  
  
“What’s wrong with him? He’s flushed and sweating and he won’t answer me.”  
  
“He’s experiencing an acute stress reaction. The pressures of the day, re-experiencing trauma, feeling helpless with the threat of imminent kidnapping and demise. Oooh, la, la.”   
  
Grumpy was talking again. Where was his lollypop?   
  
“Answer me straight and keep your cute fucking comments to your fucking self.”  
  
“Oooh, saucy.”  
  
There was a shuffle of movement. Noise. Too loud. Kris didn’t like it. So he lay down, curled up, and ran away, deep within himself.  
  
  


~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

  
  
  
“I can’t get through to him.”  
  
“No, I think he’s sleeping.”  
  
Not sleeping, drifting. Remember Burning Man? Kris and Adam floating away. Now Kris burns too. Taste of ashes in the air.  
  
“Can you come over tomorrow? Maybe he’ll react to you. I don’t know. They said he might snap out of it given time, but if it lasts more than a few days I should bring him to a doctor.”  
  
“Do you think I should try to get him to drink some water? But what if he chokes?”  
  
Kris slept.  
  
  
 _Lucas was in the room. Kris knew. No matter how many other people were there, Kris could always tell. Something significant shifted in the atmosphere.  
  
Arms still bound, Kris was being held upright by the grasp of one thug’s hands in his hair.  
  
“Please continue. I’m glad to see that the games are keeping you men as happy as I want all my people to be. There’s still some time before you must return to our preparations and I go see to my lady. What are you playing today?”  
  
“We want to see how long he can hold his breath.”  
  
“Yeah, boss, see the theory is that a fag should be able to hold it longer than a normal man because of the way he lets guys fuck his mouth.”  
  
Kris shuddered, his mouth suddenly gone dry.  
  
“Ahh, allow me to administer the test. We don’t want to damage our boy’s throat, at least not too much. We want him to be able to talk, scream, and generally put on a show for the masses. After all, he is a performer. The games must not interfere with the plan we have worked so hard to achieve.”  
  
“Yes, sir. Of course.”  
  
Kris made a weak attempt to pull away, but he knew it was futile. They had already been rough with him today. Purple bruises layered over yellow. He wanted to be strong, to show defiance like he knew Adam would have. And he had, in the beginning, but now he had so little energy to spare. And he had a thought that he would hide what was left of his strength away, and wait for his moment.  
  
His chest heaved in anticipation. As Lucas’ hand closed in he took one last desperate breath and held.  
  
Lucas’ hands were large. One hand covered the entire expanse of Kris’ mouth and nose as the other squeezed his neck. Kris concentrated. He was a singer with strong lungs. He could hold his breath for a long time. So he held, and held. And he was fine, until he just wasn’t.  
  
The air was gone and Kris gasped through the grip on his throat, desperately trying to turn his face from the hand that was smothering him. But the thug’s hold on his hair was too tight. Seconds passed. He tried to suck air through the little spaces and cracks between Lucas’ fingers. It wasn’t enough. Kris’ eyelids fluttered and he felt himself beginning to pass out.  
  
Then the hand was gone and he could breathe again. Great gulps of air.   
  
The hands returned. Kris’ body shook with adrenaline, with the need to get away, to survive. His breath was cut off abruptly. Kris struggled, kicking at the thug behind him. The man jerked Kris’ head back in response and Lucas pressed down harder. Laughter resonated. Blood throbbed to his head, his body’s desperate attempt to send oxygen to his brain.  
  
A release and a quick gasp for air before Lucas bore down again.  
  
Adam. He needed Adam. Tears sprung to his eyes. His fingers tingled. His body convulsed. Blackness crept in around the edges of his vision.  
  
Sweet air again, then suffocation, air, suffocation. Kris was breathing to the pattern Lucas forced and he despaired. He had no control. Not over when he eat, or slept, or went to the bathroom, or even breathed.   
  
Red mist swirled around him until it was only Kris and Lucas. They stood facing one another. Kris looked down and saw that his hands were free, and that he was wearing the black suit from the hearing.   
  
Lucas leaned in close and whispered in Kris’ ear.  
  
“You’re mine.”  
  
He snapped his fingers and Kris’ airway closed off. Kris fell to his knees and clawed at his throat, desperation encompassing him. Lucas snapped again and he could breathe. Snap. Snap. Snap. Snap. And Kris was shaking.   
  
Icy fear clenched at his heart and froze his veins.  
  
“Remember our time together boy? I promised to kill you before the eyes of the world, and know this, I will make it so. Your rainbow nation wants to wave you as a banner of hope. It will never happen. I will hang your dead body from the walls of their cities. At least, you or your precious Adam.”  
  
Kris lunged at Lucas, but Lucas wasn’t there, he was behind him.  
  
“One fag or the other, makes no difference to me. I promised the men a stoning.”  
  
“You won’t touch him!”  
  
Whirling around, Kris swung his fist at Lucas’ face. Lucas snapped his fingers and stole the air from Kris’ lungs. Again he snapped and a rock whirled out of the darkness to strike Kris’ chest, doubling Kris over in pain. Snap. Another rock hit Kris’ head and he staggered to the ground. Blood seeped through his hair and down his temple. Snap. Hit to his back, and still he could not breathe. Lifting his hands above his head, Kris tried to protect himself with shaking arms. Snap. Snap. Snap. Snap. Hit. Hit. Hit. Hit. Pain. Pain. Pain. Pain.  
  
“You’ll never be safe.”  
  
Snap. A rumble in the darkness grew into a roaring and an avalanche descended on top of Kris, covering him and crushing him. He had no breath to scream. It had been stolen from him. _  
  
  


~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

  
  
  
“Kris, please, baby, please wake up. Please, oh shit.”  
  
Kris whined high from the back of his throat. Still in the throes of the nightmare, feeling buried and closed in, he shoved at the blankets which covered him. When his brain caught up to the fact that he could breathe, he did what he had been trying to do for so long.   
  
He screamed. Ragged and throaty from deep within his soul. He kept screaming. He screamed out his fear, and his helplessness, and his rage until his whole body quaked with it.  
  
Until he noticed that the room was filled with light. Until he noticed Adam, sitting across from him on their bed staring at Kris with tears streaming down his face. Adam started to reach for Kris but aborted and pulled back. His face was drained of all color and his eyes looked large and frightened.   
  
Kris wilted into Adam’s lap and pressed himself close. Leaning down, Adam buried his face in Kris’ hair. His arms came up around Kris and squeezed him tight. Closing his eyes, Kris let go of everything and sobbed. Deep spasms shook his body as moans ripped from his throat. Adam’s tears soaked into his hair and ran down the back of Kris’ neck. The sounds of their crying echoed one another and Kris had a thought that this wasn’t the type of duet they should sing before he let himself fall deeper into the wounds within his soul.   
  
He felt so lost. It was like he couldn’t catch his breath or get ahead. Darkness constantly hovered around the corner, in the faces of strangers, in the hands of a friend. Staying home meant putting himself in a trap, but outside the masses tore at him. And everyone wanted something from him. If he gave to them, would he have anything left for himself? He felt so far away from the man he was before. When he looked in the mirror, he saw a man branded, scarred, and dragged down by hatred and expectations. How could he make a stand against persecution when he could not even stand on his own two feet?  
  
One day, Lucas would kill him.  
  
Kris cried out to God in the night of his Gethsemane. When all he could see was agony, he asked for faith and strength. Whispered words poured out of him in prayer like a song, and Adam held him a little closer.  
  
They stayed like that until the early morning sun dipped through the blinds and made striped patterns on the floor. Then they collapsed back into their pillows, exhausted, and held each other until they fell asleep.  
  
As Kris drifted into a dreamless sleep he had one last realization. He was finally breathing in sync with Adam.


	4. Chapter 4

Adam had called in the cavalry. Allison and Tommy were doing who knows what in the spare bedroom and Cale was sitting with Adam on the couch. His head resting in Adam’s lap, Kris sighed as the touch of Adam’s fingers massaged his scalp. He drifted, almost sleeping.  
  
“I’m not sure if I ever thanked you for helping me out in that fight with Lucas.”  
  
“Not a problem.”  
  
“But still.” Adam brushed a fingertip across Kris’ nose and eyelids. “I told you to protect Kris.”  
  
Cale leaned forward and braced his elbows on his knees. “I was, by saving  _you_.”  
  
Adam held Kris a little tighter.  
  
“Yeah, I guess,” he said, voice hoarse. “Thanks.”  
  
“Adam, what’s going through your head? Don’t you doubt it; he needs you. It’s gonna be hard for him, what with everything going on, but as long as he still has you, I know he’ll make it. You know how much he loves you.”  
  
Adam opened his mouth, but before he could speak Allison and Tommy burst into the room.  
  
“Hey Adam, we’re ready for you. The Allison and Tommy Day Spa is all set up.”  
  
“No, no, no. It’s the Tommy and Allison Day Spa.”  
  
“Shut up,” Allison said cheerfully.   
  
Tommy held up four different types of nail polish. “Look, I’ve got new ones. Aren’t they, like, totally killer?”  
  
“They sparkle,” Allison sing-songed.  
  
“Okay, guys, I’ll be right in. Just let me get Kris settled.”  
  
“Yay!” Allison squealed. She grabbed Tommy’s hand and skipped back down the hallway.  
  
“Hey, can you stay with him for a while?”  
  
“Sure, you know me, I have no need to get my nails done or whatever else it is Allison is going to do to you.”  
  
“She’s so excited.” Adam chuckled. “I’m glad I asked you guys over. I really need this.”  
  
“You’ve got to take care of yourself too, Adam.”  
  
“Hey, Kris.”  
  
“Hmmmm. Spa, I heard.” He blinked up out of his daze.  
  
“Cale’s gonna take care of you for a little while, okay?”  
  
Adam shifted Kris off his lap and into Cale’s arms.  
  
  
_Body aching, mind slow. Adam’s face, dirt-streaked, desperate, determined. He’s going to face Lucas. Passed to Cale. Couldn’t hold on to Adam. Not safe, don’t leave me, don’t die!_  
  
  
“Don’t say goodbye.”   
  
Adam froze. He remembered and his face crumbled and fell.   
  
A stray tear leaked down the side of Kris’ face. Adam wiped it away with trembling fingers.  
  
“Don’t cry, baby. This isn’t like the last time. We’re not in some crashed-up car in Guatemala. We’re in our home. Look at me. I’m safe. You’re safe.”   
  
Adam kissed Kris. It burned and seared. Kris felt possessed, owned, and loved.  
  
“I’m just going to be in the other room with Allison and Tommy.” Adam bit his lip, suddenly looking unsure. “Is this okay? You know what, never mind, I can stay.”  
  
“No,” said Kris. Sitting up, he struggled to pull himself together. The flashbacks were taking over, roping Kris into the past and scaring him. If he let them, they would paralyze not only his life, but Adam’s too. He couldn’t let that happen.   
  
Cale kept still, silently letting Adam and Kris decide.  
  
“Adam, I’m sorry. I don’t mean to fall into the past like that. But I’m fine now.”  
  
“Don’t say you’re sorry. There’s nothing to be sorry for. Having flashbacks is normal. I can stay with you. I want to.”  
  
Kris caressed Adam’s cheek. Whispering, he spoke into Adam’s ear. “Thank you.” Tears once more prickled behind his eyes, this time not from fear, but from love and gratitude. He blinked them away, then gave Adam a playful push. “Go, I’ll be alright. I’m in the present now, and I’ll be okay. Please, go have fun with Allison and Tommy. They’re waiting for you.”   
  
Adam still looked hesitant. But Kris wanted Adam to have this.  
  
“Please, Adam.”  
  
“Alright, fine.” He kissed Kris again. “But I’m just in the next room so, Cale, you’d better call me if he needs me.”  
  
“Will do, boss man.”  
  
“Smart ass.”   
  
With one last look, Adam left the room.  
  
Some time later, Kris and Cale were shouting at the television screen. The game was on. They’d acquired pizza, wings, chips, and soda within the last half an hour. Cale was pacing.  
  
“No! Oh come on, how could you possibly fumble that? What is your problem?!!”  
  
“Hey, I’ll be right back,” said Kris.  
  
“You okay?”  
  
“Yeah, bathroom.”  
  
Kris scratched lightly at his brand as he walked to the bathroom. It still itched a tiny bit. He paused as he walked by the spare bedroom. He’d expected to hear laughter and wild music, but it sounded like someone was crying. He cracked the door open a fraction.  
  
Adam was curled up in Allison’s lap while she stroked his hair. Tommy was lying at the end of the bed, just listening.  
  
“And he was just blank. It was like he was seeing right through me. It sent chills down my spine. We walked into the house, took a shower, got ready for bed, and he just wasn’t there. When I tucked him in, I realized that he was crying. I didn’t even notice at first because he wasn’t making a sound. But the tears were just streaming down. The quiet freaked me out because it just wasn’t natural. Do you think he was scared of what would happen to him if he drew attention to himself? Like he was back in that damn hut? You know, I can’t remember the last time I heard him sing or play his guitar. It’s like they stole his voice.”  
  
“That must have been so scary,” said Allison softly.  
  
“I don’t want to lose him.” Adam sobbed. “He leaves me sometimes, in his own head. It terrifies me because I don’t know where he goes, but every time he comes back it’s like he’s left another piece of himself behind. And last night, he woke up from this awful nightmare. You should have heard him, the sounds he made, like a wounded animal. And then, the screams, oh fuck, I was scared shitless. I didn’t know if I should hold him, or if that would make him feel trapped. You know he’s claustrophobic now? I just don’t know what I’m doing. Cale thinks Kris just needs me, but I’m not doing anything. I try to be there for him, but he doesn’t share things with me anymore. You guys have to tell me what to do.”  
  
Kris closed the door and walked away. He had some thinking to do, and suddenly, he wanted his guitar.  
  
  


~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

  
  
  
“So, I have to go into the studio today,” said Adam. “Lane’s sending a car over. There will be security there so you don’t need to worry about me, I’ll be fine.”  
  
“Okay.” Kris rummaged through his drawer of jewelry, looking for some more bracelets.  
  
“Are you gonna be okay here? Security will be just outside.”  
  
“Maybe I can come with you.”   
  
“Are you sure?”  
  
He could see the gears turning through Adam’s mind. Kris had realized one thing last night, hiding away in the music room fiddling with his guitar. He was closing off and it had to stop before he lost himself. And they needed to start saying things out loud, and not just trying to guess at each other in the dark, or they were both going to drown. Kris was scared. He wasn’t sure he had the courage to share what he was thinking or to hear Adam’s thoughts. He knew Adam loved him. But was love all you really needed? Maybe John Lennon was wrong. Maybe it was getting too hard.  
  
Bite the bullet, one step at a time.  
  
“You’re worried about me.”   
  
Adam nodded and pulled Kris down to sit on their bed. Kris’ mouth went dry and he swallowed hard. He took a moment to think because he wanted to give Adam something honest. Something real. Adam was looking at him with such concern in his eyes.  
  
“I don’t know whether I want to come to the studio because I’m ready to make music, or because I’m too scared to stay home alone without you. And I don’t know what’s going to be worse for me, facing the paparazzi or facing a house without you in it. But since I’m supposed to have a song ready in a week, at least the beginnings of one, I thought it would be easier if we could go to the studio together. Is that okay?”  
  
Adam hugged him, long and hard. “Yeah, Kris, that’s okay. Thank you for telling me. Can you be ready in half an hour?” His voice seemed neutral, like he didn’t want to scare Kris off, but Kris could tell that hope had kindled in Adam’s eyes.  
  
Kris exerted the effort to make a small smirk. “I think the question is whether Mr. Glambert can be ready in half an hour.” An old joke, but he didn’t have the wherewithal to come up with anything better.  
  
“Ha. Ha. I’ll go make us some coffee.”  
  
Once Adam left the room, Kris put several bracelets on each arm. He took a look in the mirror. They worked; the scars from the ropes were hidden. However, his fingers were practically vibrating in their need to rip the constrictions off his hands. They made him feel like he was still tied up. He tore them off. Plan B. He didn’t care how hot it was today in LA, it was long sleeves for him.  
  
  


~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

  
  
  
Kris had psyched himself up during the whole drive to the studio. Whatever the paps said about him, he was just going to ignore them. His name, said with their voices, would be an automatic ‘do not send to brain’ message. His heel vibrated against the floor in a motion to exude his nervousness, pump up his adrenaline, and steel his strength.  
  
Adam was glancing his way every so often, but refrained from speaking.  
  
No silence. That was Kris’ motto and he had to remember it.  
  
“I’m fine. Just amping myself up. Stop worrying.”   
  
Adam nodded but didn’t turn his eyes from the window.  
  
Then they were there and out the door. The paparazzi descended, though their security did their best to keep them back. Kris had never gotten used to it before Guatemala, and it was so much worse now. They were so loud.  
  
“Kris!”  
  
“Kris!”  
  
“Kris!”  
  
Kris shut his mind to calls for his name and concentrated only on the feel of Adam’s hand gripping him tightly. He gritted his teeth. He wouldn’t listen, he couldn’t hear them, they weren’t saying anything.  
  
“Adam!”  
  
Kris’ eyes snapped over, focusing instantly on the reporter who had called Adam’s name. The reporter’s use of Adam’s name struck a small break in the glass wall surrounding Kris with protective silence. Then the wall shattered and he was hearing dozens of questions that were all aimed at Adam, but were hitting Kris.  
  
“Adam, will the trial put your tour on hold indefinitely?”  
  
“Adam, how can you make your shows so vulgar? Have you no thought for the children in the audience?”  
  
“Adam! Kris seems so loyal to you in the YouTube video, how can you go around kissing other boys while on tour? Do you have sex with any of them? How does Kris feel about that?”  
  
“Adam, are the rumors true that you and Kris are breaking up?”   
  
Kris paled. His throat worked and his mouth opened to say something, denial or anger, but no words could be forced out.  
  
  


~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

  
  
  
They had been there for two hours, but Kris didn’t think that either of them had gotten any work done. Adam was in the booth belting out a melody while the producer tweaked the soundboard. His hands rested on his headphones and his eyes were closed. He was beautiful. But the song wasn’t going well. The performance may have passed as acceptable for any other artist, but Kris could tell that Adam’s game was off. He didn’t quite have the control that he needed to completely pull of this particular vocal stunt.   
  
“Hey Adam, let’s take a break.”  
  
Taking the headphones off, Adam grimaced. “Sure.”  
  
“We’ll all go grab lunch and start up again in an hour.”  
  
“Actually,” Kris interrupted and everyone turned to stare at him. It wasn’t his studio time so he’d done his best to stay quiet and out of the way. He had spent the morning alternating between fiddling with the keyboard, with headphones plugged in, and taking breaks to watch Adam. “I was thinking that maybe you guys could go out and have lunch on us, then bring us back something in an hour?”  
  
The producer and studio musicians looked to Adam. Adam nodded, but his eyes were focused on Kris.  
  
There was a shuffle of papers, a clang of instruments, and the snick click of the door closing. Then they were alone.  
  
Kris plopped onto the couch and plucked at the stray orange threads hanging from the cushions. Adam settled in next to Kris, close but carefully not touching. Kris thought Adam might be holding his breath.  
  
There was so much that he wanted to tell Adam. They hadn’t really talked about anything, not really. Oh, Kris had given him the basics when they talked those first few nights, but he hadn’t wanted to say anything else. It would have hurt too much to say it out loud. And why burden Adam with terrifying details that he didn’t need to know? But now Kris knew that Adam would know soon, one way or the other. The trial was coming up and Kris would be stripped bare. And maybe telling the world would hurt less if he could tell it to Adam first. But it was more than facts and figures. Kris needed to tell Adam how he was feeling and what he was thinking. Right now he felt like he was operating with only half of his soul. He was so used to telling Adam everything and processing things together that he couldn’t make a straight line out of what had happened to him; he couldn’t piece together what he was feeling into a coherent thought. He needed Adam. And Kris thought, when he had heard Adam’s pain and confusion last night, that maybe Adam needed him just as much.  
  
Kris chewed his bottom lip. He didn’t know how to start. He knew he wanted to be open with Adam, but he had no master plan beyond that.  
  
“Maybe just tell me one thing.”  
  
Kris’ eyes snapped up.   
  
“You want to tell me something, right? But you don’t know where to start. So maybe just tell me one thing. It doesn’t have to be the first thing that happened, or the most important thing. Just one. You can do that.”  
  
Kris stared. With a soft look and a quiet voice, Adam always knew just what to say. He kissed Adam, quick but firm.   
  
“Can we take turns? Just listen, and let me talk. And then it can be your turn, okay?”  
  
Adam nodded. “Can I hold your hand while you talk?”  
  
Kris reached for Adam’s hand in answer.  
  
“I thought I was going to die.”  
  
Adam paled, but said nothing.  
  
“They hurt me. I think you want to know how much but you’re afraid to ask. Both for you and for me. But I want you to know, so you know what I’m thinking, and so I don’t feel so alone.”  
  
Adam nodded at Kris to continue. He rubbed his thumb against Kris’ palm.  
  
“You know about the brand, and I want you to know that that was the worst. I mean, they beat me and choked me and I was hungry and thirsty all the time. But physically, really, it wasn’t so bad. Technically. I was only so far gone when you found me because they had been at it for so long, and because of the infection, the wounds that I gave myself escaping, and the bad water that I drank from the lake. They needed me alive so they held back. And it never got sexual, at least, in their actions if not their words. So really, it could have been worse. But…”  
  
Kris averted his eyes. A tremor wracked his frame.  
  
“They terrorized me.” His voice was hoarse. “With their words and their threats. They held me down so I couldn’t move and couldn’t stop them, stripped me of all control so I just had to lie there and take it as they hurt me. I tried to be strong, to not show them how scared I was, but I was shaking. Their words were poison, and I felt dirty and wrong. Weak. They shamed me. And now I feel marked, scarred on the inside and the outside.”  
  
Kris took his hands from Adam and pulled up the sleeves of his shirt. His fingers traced the striated marks wrapped around his wrists.  
  
“I feel ugly.”  
  
“Can it be my turn now?”  
  
“Yeah,” Kris mumbled.  
  
Adam cradled Kris’ wrists between both his hands and kissed the scarred flesh. Kris jerked back but this time, Adam didn’t let him move away.  
  
“Adam,” Kris said, breathless. His chest was suddenly tight. His heart thought it understood why Adam was doing this, but his mind churned with confusion.  
  
“It’s my turn.”  
  
Adam peppered little kisses around the path on Kris’ wrist, then kissed up the bruises on his arm to lick at his neck. Kris could feel the beat of his pulse point where Adam sucked, leaving a gentle mark of his own. Then, Adam devoured Kris’ mouth. He breathed Kris in then blew breath back into Kris’ lungs. Adam licked a long stripe across his jaw and gently kissed his temple. Then Adam whispered into his ear, urgent and forceful.  
  
“You’re beautiful.”  
  
Kris trembled. He wanted Adam, but was afraid of his wanting.  
  
“Beautiful and strong. In response to vile hatred, you showed love and courage to the world. You escaped and survived when all odds were against you. Maybe you had help, but do you know why those people helped you? Yes, they were good people, but that’s not all of it. They saw purity and goodness in you and, like me, they didn’t want that light to go out in the world.” Adam leaned his forehead against Kris’ to look him directly in the eyes. “Do you think I saved you? I was so tired, frustrated, and scared. But every time I lost hope, I thought of you and it made me push forward. Even apart, you were my partner, my inner strength. I hate the way they made you feel, and I’m sorry for it. It makes me angry and sad. But know this – I am never going to stop telling you how strong, pure, and beautiful you are. And one day, you’re going to wake up and you won’t hear their words anymore, you’ll only hear mine. I love you.”   
  
For a minute they just breathed each other in, mouths close but not touching. Processing. Kris wanted nothing more than to bury himself in Adam’s arms and accept the shelter and protection offered there. But something held him back.  
  
“I want to know if love is enough.”  
  
Lips trembling, Adam pulled back. Then, he renewed his hold on Kris’ hands, afraid, perhaps, that Kris would run away again.  
  
“I love you, and I know you love me, but I feel lost and disconnected. And I’m scared all the time. I need you, and you’re here, but I feel like there’s just so much space between us. And I know it’s my fault, that I need to talk to you more. But it’s hard. I’m all mixed up inside.   
  
“I feel like Lucas turned me into a puppet. He used me to get his message across. And now, maybe he can’t use me anymore, but I’m still that boy on a string. Everyone wants something from me and they’re just pulling my pieces further and further apart: the lawyers, the label, the public, the LGBT community. And you. And me. We love each other, but I’m not sure love is strong enough to hold me together.” Kris licked his lips and forced himself to say it. “To hold us together.”  
  
The line of Adam’s mouth was thin and the set of his jaw hard. Tears were in his eyes. “Is it my turn again?”  
  
Kris nodded, but looked away. Adam cupped his cheek and tilted Kris’ head back up to look Adam in the eye.  
  
“Our love is enough.”   
  
Kris tried to pull away, but Adam wouldn’t let him.   
  
“Kris listen, do you remember when I found you? You were lying on that little bed and your eyes were closed. You looked so broken and I prayed to everyone and anyone that you would just live. That you would open your eyes and look at me. And when you did, for one second, I forgot all about Lucas and the dream visions, and the crazy trip that led me to you. I just felt joy and love and relief and such tender protectiveness. I knew that as long as you had breath in your body and as long as we were together, we were going to win. You would be fine. Lucas and Richelle were going to go down. I was going to crush them. In that moment, there was no doubt in my mind because I knew that with love like ours there was no other outcome.”  
  
Kris heart was racing. “But don’t tell me that you didn’t have doubts later.”  
  
“Don’t talk to me about later.” Adam’s voice was firm. “Tell me what you were thinking in that one moment, when you opened your eyes and saw me.”  
  
“When I saw you? Shock.”  
  
“What else?” Adam’s eyes were a fire rekindled, not to hurt, but to burn away the dross and burnish anew.  
  
“Relief and love. I felt like my heart and my soul had been straining and yearning for you all that time, and then suddenly you were there and they didn’t hurt anymore. I was safe. Everything was going to be okay. But…”  
  
“No buts. Hold on to what we felt. I knew we would win. You knew that everything would be okay. Our love made us sure. It’s the same now. We will win. We will be okay. Together.”  
  
Kris could only nod. He felt too full of feeling to speak. Instead, he wrapped his arms around Adam and they held each other tight.   
  
  


~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

  
  
  
The music was coming along now. Adam was electric in the booth. The producer had this goofy smile spread across his face.  
  
“That was awesome! How about we take it from the top one more time before we wrap for the day. Maybe this time change up the key on the bridge. I think if we went sharp for the first few notes it would really add some kick to it.”  
  
Kris doodled some more in his notebook, feeling a little lighter since he and Adam had talked. Even with Adam behind the glass and Kris curled up on the sofa, somehow, it felt like they were still holding hands. He was still scared. And whatever Adam had said, he still didn’t feel beautiful. But, there was a glow in his chest that hadn’t been there this morning. It felt a lot like hope.  
  
  


~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

  
  
  
“Adam, what are your new songs like? Are they gay? Do you really think that’s appropriate?”  
  
“Adam, how’s your tour boyfriend? Does Tommy miss you when you’re away?”  
  
The energy Adam had exuded in the studio suddenly seemed sapped from his body. Kris could tell by the hunch in his shoulders and the tension along his arms. Adam was so good at this though; he had learned his lesson and hardly ever responded. His PR had drilled, “No response, no comment,” into his head. He said it wasn’t worth it and insisted on being the better person. He said that he was used to it.  
  
Kris wasn’t used to it. He didn’t think he would ever be. And usually he was laid back, but right now there was a stone blank expression on Adam’s face. Kris may be tired, and scared, and messed up, but that look was unacceptable. No one was allowed to make Adam look like that.  
  
Slipping his arm around Adam’s waist, Kris ushered Adam into the car first. Then he turned, shielding the camera’s view of Adam with his body, and faced the paparazzi head on. The flashing of lights doubled, but the shouting lulled in anticipation. He felt Adam’s hand on the small of his back, tentative and questioning.  
  
Kris’ voice cut through the masses sharp as glass. “I’ve worked in the industry for a long time now. I have respect for reporters and journalists, and normally even for paparazzi and what you guys do. But today, you should all be ashamed of yourselves. You were rude and nasty and you meant to inflict hurt and pain. How dare you say those things to Adam. He’s been through enough.   
  
“You say that because we put ourselves out there that we should just accept damage thrown our way as part of the package. But Adam and I, we make music. It makes us happy and it makes other people happy. We never signed up to be tortured. Though, if you haven’t noticed, we got our share of that too.”  
  
The crowd seemed to flinch collectively.   
  
“Don’t add to it. Adam is smart, and beautiful, and full of love for everyone around him. He has the kind of talent only seen once in a generation. And he found me, saved me, and took down a psychotic terrorist. He’s a God damn American hero, and don’t you forget it.”   
  
Kris whirled around, slid into the car, and slammed the door shut. Inside, Adam’s eyes were shining, and for the first time in a long time, Kris felt strong.


	5. Chapter 5

Feather light touches all along his arm woke Kris up sometime in the night. Blinking his eyes against the brightness of the bedside light, Kris tried to focus on what had woken him. Adam leaned over Kris with a dazzle in his eyes and a grin on his face. He was fully dressed in jeans and a long jacket. Sitting up, Kris yawned and rubbed his eyes.  
  
“What’s going on? Is everything okay?”  
  
“Everything’s fine.”  
  
Adam put his hand on Kris’ shoulder. Kris was watching Adam, knew that his hand was coming towards him, and knew that Adam would never hurt him. He still flinched. Adam’s smile fell off his face.  
  
“I’m sorry.” Adam swallowed.   
  
“No, don’t. I didn’t mean it. It’s just that I’m still a little groggy.”  
  
“Have you been…” Adam hesitated, “I didn’t realize touching was still bothering you. I hadn’t noticed you react in a while.”  
  
“I’m usually fine, except sometimes when it’s sudden or when I’m not so awake.”   
  
“You mean it still bothers you, but you’ve been trying to control your reactions.”  
  
“Yeah, I guess that’s what I mean.”  
  
Adam took a moment to process Kris’ answer. He licked his lips. “Do you not want me to touch you? I know I’ve been a little overbearing lately with the hugs and hand-holding. I’ve been trying to tone it down, but it’s just that I thought I might lose you before. So sometimes I just need to touch you to make sure you’re still here.”  
  
Kris licked his lips and pressed his palms together. “It’s hard for me. You know how touchy I am, tactile. But now, I’m jumpy all the time. I just don’t like to be touched.”  
  
“Okay.” Adam was nodding his head franticly. “We can make it work, I’ll…”  
  
“Adam, stop.” Kris grabbed Adam’s hands. “I don’t like it, but I still  _need_  it.”  
  
“Oh, baby.” Adam gave Kris a tug and Kris dove into his arms. Adam was warm and his shirt was soft. Breathing in deep, Kris absorbed the pressure of the hug and let it soothe his senses.  
  
“So, what are we doing up in the middle of the night?”  
  
“Tradition! Well, at least, I’m making it a tradition. We did it once already.”  
  
“Did what?”  
  
“We’re going to escape the pressures of life, management, the press, everybody. I’m going to sneak us out of the house and we’ll be off to the beach! I’ve already packed the car. All I need is you.”  
  
Adam plopped Kris’ glasses over his nose and Kris smiled. A mini-vacation was just what they needed.  
  
  


~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

  
  
  
The steady speed of the car sent tendrils of a warm breeze twirling through Kris’ hair as Adam drove with the top down. It was a beautiful night. The streetlights danced behind Kris’ closed eyelids until the city fell away behind them. Kris listened as Adam sang along to the soft music playing on the radio. With Adam’s presence all around him, he dozed off into a deep contented sleep. The steady thrum of the engine seemed to call to him,  _Safe, safe, you’re safe_.  
  
He woke up to the sound of Adam humming. It was still dark out.  
  
“Hey baby, we’re here.”  
  
Kris rubbed the sleep out of his eyes and got out of the car. He took a deep breath of moist, briny air as he stretched his arms up over his head. They walked down the beach hand-in-hand to where Adam had set up their picnic. The stars were out. They were so clear, compared to what was seen in the city. Adam wrapped them both in extra blankets then pulled Kris down to sit between his legs. Leaning back into Adam’s warmth, Kris rested his head against Adam’s shoulder. For a while, they sat in companionable silence and watched the waves and the stars.  
  
Adam kissed Kris’ cheek and nuzzled into the back of his neck. Turning in Adam’s arms, Kris kissed him soft and sweet. Adam smiled, then rubbed his thumb across Kris bottom lip. He looked deep into Kris’ eyes.   
  
“Marry me.”  
  
Kris startled.  
  
“Adam. What?” Kris’ heart pounded and his mind raced.  
  
“I don’t want us to ever be apart again. Marry me, Kris Allen.”  
  
Kris eyes filled with tears, but they weren’t happy tears. He was confused and shocked. He loved Adam. It would be a lie to say that marriage had never crossed his mind. Deep down, he was a traditional man and he’d wanted forever. He’d believed in forever. Now he wasn’t so sure. Promises could be stolen. And how could he marry Adam now? How could he promise Adam his whole self when he still felt so broken? Was there enough of him to give?  
  
“Adam, I don’t know if I can.”   
  
“You don’t have to answer me right away. I just want you to know that I’m here for you, always.”  
  
Kris nodded but he couldn’t look Adam in the eye.   
  
“Shhh….” Slowly, Adam rubbed soothing circles into Kris’ skin.   
  
“My heart hurts.” Kris was startled by his own statement. It seemed random and he didn’t know where it had come from. Perhaps from somewhere deep inside.  
  
“I know. My heart can feel it and it hurts too.”  
  
“Just kiss me.”  
  
They came together again, hot and desperate, licking, sucking, and marking. Adam’s hands crept under Kris’ shirt to smooth across the skin of his stomach. Kris shivered as his cock hardened. He wanted Adam. But when he felt Adam’s erection, he pulled away abruptly. Adam’s eyes were dark and heavy lidded with desire. Kris pressed his lips together and rubbed the back of his neck.   
  
“Hey, Kris, it’s okay. Turn back around.”   
  
Kris hesitated, but did as Adam said, and moved until he had his back to Adam and his eyes on the waves.  
  
“Do you trust me?”  
  
“Yes. But Adam…”  
  
“Shhh, it’s okay. I’ve got you. I won’t touch the brand.”  
  
Kris cringed. Adam hugged him a little harder.  
  
“It’s gonna be okay. I won’t even uncover it. Just let me take care of you.”  
  
Then he unbuttoned Kris’ pants and pulled the zipper down. Kris’ breath caught in his throat. Squeezing his eyes shut, he pressed his face into Adam’s neck as Adam pulled his cock out and began to stroke. Up and down, up and down, steady as the crash of the waves upon the beach. Kris whimpered. Precome slipped down Kris’ cock and eased the way for Adam’s hand. He stroked faster now, twisting and teasing. Kris felt a burn, deep in his gut. It tingled down his legs and curled his toes. He was close. Adam kissed into Kris’ hair.  
  
“You can let go now. You’re beautiful. You’re with me. You’re safe. Come for me, Kris.”  
  
Kris came. He shouted out into the quiet of the night as white light erupted peace and pleasure into his mind. Every cell in his body seemed to vibrate. Then he hovered, lost in the sensation and smell of Adam all around him. His eyelids fluttered as he tried to get them to cooperate. Suddenly so tired, the tension of weeks leaving his body in a rush, Kris couldn’t figure out how to turn himself around so he could kiss Adam. He whined a little into Adam’s neck, then settled for licking at the skin he found there. Adam’s hand swept across Kris forehead and down over his eyes.  
  
“Sleep, Kris. Rest. I’ll be here when you wake up.”  
  
Kris’ eyes dropped shut and he settled deeper into Adam’s embrace. Vaguely, he sensed Adam putting him back together and then pulling them both to down to lie on the blanket. A seagull cried overhead, and swept him away into the land of deep sleeping. He had no dreams.  
  
  


~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

  
  
  
When Kris awoke, the first light of dawn was only beginning to lighten the horizon. He could just make out the boats of night fishermen, like little dots, as they headed back home to rest. A short way up the beach stood a little chapel in the deep gray dust of morning. Peaceful and inviting, like a memory from his childhood, it called to Kris.   
  
He brushed black strands of hair from Adam’s face, then leaned down to kiss him on the forehead and lips. As he rose, he tucked the blankets in around Adam. Next to the picnic basket, Kris spotted his guitar. Adam always thought of everything. He grabbed it and started off towards the chapel.  
  
The inside of the building was simple and quaint with just a few pews and a pulpit. There was sand on the floor and seashells adorned the windowsills. A child’s decorative arrangement.  
  
He wasn’t even thinking when he sat down and brought out his guitar, he just knew that there was music inside that needed to be played.  
  
  
_Life's been blinding me,  
From what I thought I'd see   
Is there clarity in this insanity? Yeah.  
What’s He want from me? Yeah. _  
  
  
He sang from his soul, and his song was a prayer. He prayed to God for strength and endurance, for love and forgiveness to replace the anger and hatred in his heart. He prayed for freedom from fear.   
  
  
_Feels so far away  
Want to see your face   
Are you even there?   
Can you show me?  
Can you make me believe?   
  
I need to know... _  
  
  
The muted sound of the waves and the ocean breeze coming in through the open windows enhanced the plea of the music that surrounded Kris. He stayed in prayer as the darkness faded from the sky. He listened to God and the workings of his own heart. He let himself hope and believe in faith and love.  
  
  


~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

  
  
  
“Kris?”  
  
Adam slid through the door of the chapel in a rush. His eyes were frantic and his chest heaved with heavy breathing. He strode to Kris, put both hands on either side of Kris’ face, and ran his fingers through Kris’ hair and down his neck.  
  
“Adam, what’s wrong?”  
  
“I woke up and you were gone.”  
  
“I’m sorry. I thought I’d be back before you woke up.”  
  
“You can’t go missing again,” said Adam. “You can’t leave me. Promise me.” There were tears in his eyes.  
  
Kris felt his throat close up. He remembered again that it wasn’t just him who had been damaged by the actions of Lucas and Richelle.   
  
He wanted to tell Adam what he wanted to hear. That Kris would never go missing or leave him. That Kris would marry him. That they would always be together. But he couldn’t, not with honesty. The world was full of danger and sorrow. Anything could happen between now and tomorrow. And he needed to stand on his own again before they could stand together.  
  
He led Adam out of the chapel so they could sit on the beach and watch the waves, comforting each other.  
  
“I love you.”  
  
“That’s not a promise.”  
  
“I thought love was a promise.” Kris drew a heart into the sand. “I need to start going out on my own again.” There, he’d said it. Maybe he wasn’t ready for it yet, but he’d said the words, even if they scared him.  
  
Adam pulled him in a little closer.  
  
“But I promise I’ll do my best to come home to you every night. That’s the best I can do.”  
  
“Yeah.” Adam sighed. His face was shadowed, backlit by the colors of the morning dawn. The wind played with his hair and he was beautiful.  
  
“I’m here now.”  
  
Adam nodded.  
  
“There’s more,” said Kris. “I’ve been thinking this morning about a lot of things. I want to do an interview. My management’s been pushing for it, but it’s not about them. I need to tell my story. I know you don’t like for us to be symbols for the LGBT community, but the truth is that there are a lot of people out there who look to us as role models. Every time a gay teen gets beaten up by a high school bully, will they think of what happened to me and wonder if one day that will be them? I want to show them that I survived, and that they can too. I want to do some of the interview on my own, to prove to myself that I can. But I thought, maybe, you could be there for part of it? You don’t have to say yes.”  
  
“I’ll be there. You need me, and I’m there, Kris.”  
  
Kris smiled. “Thank you.” He strummed a few chords on his guitar.  
  
“Adam?”  
  
“Yeah, Kris?”  
  
“I know it’s bad. I know that I’m a little broken. Or maybe more than a little. But I want you to know you won’t have to wait forever. I’ll be okay one day.”  
  
They stayed there together, the chapel behind them the ocean in front, and watched the brilliant colors dance as the sun rose.  
  
  


~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

  
  
  
Kris felt a hand on his shoulder and he turned into the familiar touch. Adam dropped a kiss onto his ear.  
  
“Are you ready for this?”  
  
Kris rubbed his fingers across the scars on his wrists. All his wounds had healed and his body had recuperated from the dehydration and malnutrition. But the scars were still there and always would be. He didn’t want them covered today, but he still didn’t like them.  
  
“Stop that, you’re beautiful.”  
  
“To you.”  
  
“To everyone out there. But I’m the only one that matters. You’re mine, you know.”  
  
“I know.” Kris smiled and kissed Adam deeply. He thought maybe Adam needed some reassuring. The marriage proposal still hung in the air. Kris hadn’t said anything more on the subject since that day on the beach three months ago and Adam had started acting a little possessive lately.  
  
“Stop that, you’ll ruin our make-up,” said Adam. But there was a twinkle in his eye that said he didn’t really mind.  
  
“Kris, you’re on in five.” The stagehand rushed by.   
  
After Kris had jokingly suggested a Krim show with Jim Cantiello and Adam had slammed down that notion and suggested Michael Slezak, they had chosen Barbara Walters. She was prominent, respected, and had good ratings. And most importantly, her interviews straddled the line between the political and entertainment world. Today, Kris and Adam would do the same.  
  
The stagehand sped by again and grabbed Kris by the elbow, pulling him along. “Alright, so she’ll do an introduction interspersed with some clips of the two of you, and then we’ll play the interview. Standard format. Of course, you only have to worry about the interview right now. Sit on the couch, but leave room for Adam to come in later. Alright? Here we go.”  
  
Barbara came in and settled down. She had done some small talk with Adam and Kris earlier to put them at ease. They were wired for sound. Then it was lights, camera, action. Steel the nerves, calm the spirit, here we go.  
  
“Kris Allen. This is your first interview since your capture in Guatemala while you were doing humanitarian work. The leaders of the organization Original World Order, Lucas and Richelle Macklin, will be going to trial for kidnapping, torture, and domestic terrorism.   
  
“Kris, let me first of all say how happy I am to have you here, alive, sitting in this room with me.”  
  
“Thanks. Yeah, there were times when I thought I wasn’t going to make it out alive.”  
  
“How did that feel, knowing that you might die?”  
  
“I was terrified. They wanted to stone me. But another part of me thought, who are these people? Stoning? Seriously? What century is this? You know, on one level, I was just incredulous. Like, this can’t be happening. Then there was the part that was just screaming at me, ‘survive!’”  
  
“There are those out there who believe that the world would be a better place if you had died. One less homosexual. What have you to say to them?”  
  
Kris pressed his palms together. The scars from the ropes reflected in the harsh studio lighting. “There will always be people out there who fear the minority, people who are different. They cut us down, marginalize us, or pretend that we don’t exist. But I dare anyone to watch that video that they put up and then tell me that that’s the way to go, that torture and killing and even just the bullying is acceptable. That’s the road to Hitler and concentration camps. I think the world knows better now.”  
  
“After all you went through, the brand that they burned into your skin, do you still believe that there is enough goodness in this world to stop people like Lucas and Richelle? Do you believe that there never will be those concentration camps lining up gay men and women again?”  
  
“There will always be people like Lucas and Richelle, but I believe that they are far outnumbered by people willing to stand up against them. I stayed away from the public for a long time after I came home. I was overwhelmed by the media and the pressures from people to talk, to stand up, to be a symbol for gay rights. I didn’t take the time to see who else was talking. But let me tell you, there has been so much love directed at me and Adam. The love and support from the fans, and even from people who weren’t familiar with our music, has been unbelievable. And what I’m hoping is that those people who are willing to support me, will be willing to support the people in their own community. When you see some kid being bullied in school, stand up for them. Don’t let it happen right in front of you. Standing up for me, standing up for them. It’s the same.”  
  
“Your partner Adam Lambert has long stated in interview after interview that he’s a singer, and not a political advocate or a role model. Now you’re talking to me about standing up for bullied children and urging the world to follow down a certain path. Are you taking on that role of political advocate?”  
  
Kris glanced at Adam where he stood behind the camera. He saw only love and support. “Yeah, I am.”  
  
“Let me ask you about the court proceedings that are going on against Lucas and Richelle Macklin. You’ve been a part of those, haven’t you?”  
  
“Yes, I have.”  
  
“How has it been, seeing them again?”  
  
Kris had been expecting this question. He was ready for it. “It’s been hard, especially that first time. But I wanted to prove to myself, and to them, that I could stand in the same room with them with no fear. To show that they didn’t have power over me anymore. And as you said, being a role model. To show people out there that even if there’s someone making your life hell right now, that it doesn’t last forever. You can get out from under them. It does get better.”  
  
“And Adam, has he been a support to you during this trying time? In the propaganda video used by the OWO, you stated, ‘You can’t stop us from loving each other.’ Through all the craziness that you’ve been through, has that statement proven true? Are you two still in love?”  
  
“Yes, definitely. I love him and he loves me. I mean, I know it was hard on Adam. When I came back, we had both been through so much that we had been changed. I was a mess. But through it all, I knew that if nothing else, we had each other. I never questioned that.”  
  
“This is a good time to bring out our other special guest. Adam Lambert is here with you today.”  
  
“Yes, he is.”   
  
Adam sat down next to Kris and entwined their fingers together.  
  
“Adam, it’s nice to see you again.”  
  
“Thank you Barbara, likewise.”  
  
“The last time we talked, you had just performed at the AMA’s. I grilled you about kissing one of your male musicians.”  
  
Adam laughed. “Yes, that’s right.”  
  
“Have you been doing any musician kissing these days?”  
  
“Just Kris.”  
  
“Quite a different picture from that wild man on stage years ago. One could almost say that you’ve become domestic.”  
  
Adam grinned at Kris. “What I do on stage, it’s part of who I am, but not all of me. I’ve always wanted a house and stability and true love. Now I have it all.”  
  
“What do you think is the biggest misperception about the two of you?”  
  
Adam and Kris glanced at each other for a moment. Kris answered. “That we’re the complete opposite of each other.”  
  
“They think I’m this loud, dangerous, extravagant diva.”  
  
“And that I’m this unassuming, laid back hick who didn’t have the talent to win American Idol.”  
  
“He has tons of talent; you should hear some of the songs he’s writing right now. You are laid back, though.”  
  
“You are extravagant.”  
  
Adam laughed.  
  
“Not a diva, though,” said Kris with a grin.  
  
“You see, we have a similar sense of humor and we like a lot of the same things.”  
  
“And beyond that, there’s always been this magnetism that drew me to Adam. Like, he’d be in the room and I couldn’t keep my eyes off him.”  
  
“The same for me. I call it my Kris sense. I always know where he is.”  
  
“Adam mentioned some new songs. Can you give us a sneak peek Kris?”  
  
Kris smiled and glanced at Adam. “Maybe a small one.”   
  
Someone brought out Kris’ guitar.  
  
“For a long time, after I came home, I had trouble making music. It took a long time, but I finally feel like I’ve found my voice again.”  
  
The melody he played was simple but strong. An anthem of love, a rejection of hatred. Kris had written it during their trip to the beach. He’d soaked up the sun and dug his toes into the sand while strumming his guitar. Adam had listened with a softness to his face and love in his eyes.   
  
  
_There is a destiny that makes us lovers:  
None goes his way alone:  
All that we send into the lives of others  
Comes back into our own.  
  
I care not what his temples or his creeds,  
One thing holds firm and fast  
That into his fateful heap of days and deeds  
The soul of man is cast.   
  
Love is all you need. _  
  
  
Then the interview was done. Kris fiddled with his messenger bag, looking for his chapstick, while Adam made small talk with the stagehand. He looked over and their eyes connected. A brief moment in time where Adam smiled just for Kris before returning his attention to the conversation. So simple an act, a smile that Kris had seen a thousand times. But inside, it made him glow. It was then that Kris knew, tonight would be the night.   
  
  


~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

  
  
  
In the months that Kris had been back, he had yet to allow Adam to make love to him. What sex they did manage had been stilted hand jobs or blowjobs where Kris had never fully undressed. But tonight he would trust Adam with everything. He was ready.   
  
While Adam was off making a pot of tea, Kris snuck into the bathroom for a quick shower. Steam filled the bathroom and fogged the mirror as he stepped out and toweled off. Swiping his hand across his faded image revealed the horror of the brand upon his skin. It had healed as much as it ever would. He traced the circle in the reflection, then again on his own body. He didn’t doubt Adam. He knew that he could trust Adam with every insecurity and that Adam would still love and take care of him. He had only doubted himself, whether he would have the strength to be that vulnerable. Some days he felt like he had never really escaped from the hands of his captors. He lingered in the shadows of the hut and each night was branded anew in the flames of oppression. But today, it was time to come home.  
  
Kris dropped the towel from his waist and stepped into their bedroom. He lay down on top of the bed, curled around a pillow, and waited for Adam.  
  
When Adam walked into the room, he had a cup of tea in one hand and a magazine in the other. Both fell to the floor the moment he saw Kris. His eyes traced the expanse of skin long hidden and now laid out before him.   
  
Pushing the pillow away, Kris sat up to meet Adam’s gaze. He’d never felt so open or exposed. Slowly, Adam approached him, almost as if he was afraid Kris would suddenly run away and hide. He cupped Kris’ cheek in his hand and looked him searchingly in the eye. Kris held nothing back. Not his fear, not his love, not his desire. Kneeling on the floor, Adam leaned his head forward and gently kissed the brand.  
  
“Does it hurt?”  
  
“Not anymore. The edges are a little sensitive, but the worst of it I can’t even feel.”  
  
“You’re shaking.”  
  
“So are you.” Kris touched Adam’s chin to tilt his face up. “Adam. Love me.”  
  
Adam pulled off his shirt in one smooth motion then slid out of his pants and underwear. He kissed Kris hard and desperate and pushed them both back onto the bed.   
  
The full body contact of skin on skin sent a shockwave roaring through Kris’ body. He gasped and arched up off the bed. A humming buzzed under his skin, the feeling of a thousand starved connections reaching out and taking what was needed. Kris whimpered and pressed himself closer. They slid against each other, hard but not hurried, kissing and touching everywhere.   
  
Then, Adam pushed himself up to lean on one arm. The fingers of his other hand pressed deep into the skin at Kris’ side. His eyes flashed dark and intense.  
  
Tracing a line across Adam’s chest from one nipple to the other, Kris asked, “What are you doing?”  
  
“Just looking at you,” he said, voice husky. “I missed this.”  
  
Kris smiled. “Come here.”   
  
They kissed again. Adam’s tongue pressed and swirled into Kris mouth until they were both breathing hard. Pulling back again, Adam brushed the hair back from Kris’ forehead and rubbed his thumb against Kris’ temple. His eyes were questioning.  
  
“I’m okay.” Kris spread his legs and bent his knees, encasing Adam within the space between his legs.  
  
Adam buried his face into Kris’ neck and breathed him in deeply. Then, he reached into the bedside dresser drawer for the lube. He squeezed a liberal amount onto his fingers and spread it down Kris’ crack and all around his hole. Keeping his eyes on Kris’ face, Adam slowly pushed one finger in and out.  
  
It was tight after so long, and Kris’ breath hitched. Adam stilled immediately. After a moment, he spread lube onto Kris dick and stroked him firmly to distraction. Then he rubbed his thumb over Kris’ hole, relaxing him. Kris sighed with pleasure. Then Adam pumped his finger gently, spearing Kris until he opened up around him.   
  
Kris lost track of time as he slowly lost and found his mind. It had been so long. The sensations were overwhelming. There was nothing but the searching touch of Adam’s fingers, the striking blue of Adam’s eyes, and the beat of both their hearts.  
  
“Adam,” Kris moaned.  
  
Adam pushed two fingers inside Kris and swallowed him down at the same time. Kris screamed, arching into Adam’s mouth and then pressing back onto his fingers again and again. Adam was everywhere, inside him and around him. Kris’ legs fell open as Adam took him deep, then pushed three fingers inside.   
  
“Adam, I need you.”  
  
“Are you ready?” Adam’s voice was a whisper that Kris answered in kind.  
  
“Yes, yes, please.”  
  
Adam kissed Kris once again and lined himself up. Then he pressed in an inch at a time, the long swell of his cock impaling Kris and claiming him. Kris gasped as Adam pushed his legs further apart and slid home. It felt like the first time. Adam grasped Kris’ right hand with his left, then placed their joined hands over the brand on Kris’ hip. Tears sprung to Kris’ eyes, emotion tight in his chest. He blinked and they ran down the side of his face.  
  
“You’re beautiful, Kris. I love you.”  
  
Adam licked the trail of tears and kissed across Kris’ eyelids. Then he began to move. He thrust long and deep and Kris pushed up to meet him. Pressure against his prostate ripped a shout from his lungs that Adam inhaled with searing kisses. Again and again they pulled apart and came together.   
  
“Mine.” Adam growled in his ear as his pace increased.  
  
“Mine.” Kris said as he spread his fingers across a hundred freckles.  
  
Kris’ cock slid between their bellies with delicious friction. Adam angled his hips and drove into Kris even deeper, slamming against his prostate.   
  
“Adam, I love you, love you, love you.”  
  
His orgasm hit him hard, a wave of tingling that went up his body with such force he could feel the vibrations in his teeth. Somewhere in his soul, he broke apart and slammed back together. With a shout, Adam came inside him, shaking hard. Before he was done, he pulled out and splattered the rest of his come across Kris right hip, marking the brand where their fingers still clutched tangled together.   
  
They collapsed against and into each other, caressing and lightly kissing. Just being lost in the moment with each other, like nothing else mattered but the love they had for each other.   
  
Kris rested his head on Adam’s arm and let Adam play with his hair. “Adam?”  
  
“Yeah, baby?”  
  
“Yes.”  
  
Adam hummed in contentment. “Yes, what?”  
  
“Yes, I will marry you.”  
  
Adam froze and his eyes widened in shock. Then it seemed like Adam expanded with his glee. His shoulders lifted and his chest puffed out, like a weight had been lifted from his heart. The smile that shone across Adam’s face lit Kris’ whole world.  
  
  


~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

  
  
  
They were happy. It amazed Kris every day how happy he could be eight months after being captured, tortured, and terrorized. Some days, it was still hard. Nightmares would come and a touch, sound, or smell could send him into to the past. He would come out of it disoriented and wrecked. But Adam was always there to help him pull himself back together.   
  
He saw a therapist twice a week by himself and once a week with Adam. Adam saw the same woman once every other week on his own. It was going great. He liked that she didn’t push directions and advice onto him. She just accepted him, encouraged him, and helped him sort through his emotions. Lately they had been talking about lessening his individual sessions to once a week due to the progress they both felt he had made.   
  
The trial was going well. Kris had found the strength to testify. He’d gone up to the stand, looked Lucas in the eye, and spoke his story to the ruin of his captor. But the trial no longer took up all of Kris’ attention. He had confidence that Lucas and Richelle and all the others of the Original World Order cult would be locked away for good. Besides, it would take a year or more for them to reach an outcome and he was busy. He had a wedding to plan.  
  
Or rather, he was working on an album that was nearing completion, and Adam had a wedding to plan.   
  
“Kris, he’s perfect. I can’t believe Alisan found us a preacher who would be willing to co-facilitate our wedding with my astrologist. Which, by the way, my girl calculated the best time for us to be named husbands so we have to make sure that we’re not off schedule.”  
  
“That’s great, Adam. Just as long as it’s Alisan who found him, and not Brad. I don’t want us to end up tied together with daisies as we spin in a circle doing a ceremonial dance.”  
  
Adam laughed. “As if Brad would use daisies. It would be diamonds or nothing, baby.”  
  
“Did we decide who Allison is going to stand with?”  
  
“I think she should stand with you. That way, you’ll have Daniel, Cale, and Allison and I’ll have Neil, Tommy, and Danielle. The pictures will be symmetrical.”  
  
“Ahh, of course. You think of everything.”  
  
Adam’s eyes twinkled. He leaned in for a kiss.  
  
“I do.”  
  
“Ha ha, ironic. You think you’re so funny.” He kissed him anyway.  
  
“You love me.”  
  
Kris looked deep into Adam’s eyes. His future husband. Their love had been strong enough to see them through the fires of hell, the emptiness and loneliness of purgatory, and now they were in heaven.   
  
“Yes, I do. I promise. Together forever. I love you.”  
  
  
  
**_The End._**  
  
  
  
  
  
Credits to:  
  
**Edwin Markham  
A Creed**  
  
_There is a destiny that makes us brothers:  
None goes his way alone:  
All that we send into the lives of others  
Comes back into our own.  
  
I care not what his temples or his creeds,  
One thing holds firm and fast  
That into his fateful heap of days and deeds  
The soul of man is cast._  
  
  
  
  
  
Thanks for reading.  
_SapphireDreams


End file.
